


In Theory

by cruisedirector, Dementordelta



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Australia, Blood Magic, Community: snarry_games, Curse Breaking, First Time, Horcruxes, M/M, Malfoy Manor, Mind Sex, Potions, Psychic Bond, Romance, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-09
Updated: 2009-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dementordelta/pseuds/Dementordelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius Malfoy appears at Harry Potter's door to tell him that Severus Snape is alive...and Malfoy will tell Harry where Snape is, if Harry promises a favor in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2009 Snarry Games. We take no responsibility if Adelaide's Thorngrove Manor does not in fact cater to wizards.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter."

The last person in the world whom Harry Potter wished to see smiled insincerely at him from the doorway of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Not that Harry was in the mood for any company at all. He had sent Ron and Hermione on their way a few minutes earlier with a curt explanation about needing to finish paperwork for the Ministry. Probably they recognized the excuse for what it was, considering that Ron's father worked for the Ministry and had told them what a shambles the place was in at the moment, but they had departed without protest.

Hermione thought Harry was in mourning for Lupin, while Ron assumed Harry was as upset about Fred's death as all the Weasleys. Those things were true, but Harry didn't have the heart to try to explain what was really eating at him. He certainly didn't have the heart to be polite to the man standing outside his door, who gestured as if he couldn't understand why Harry hadn't yet asked him to come in.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded, fingers closing around his wand.

Lucius Malfoy stopped smiling. "I require your assistance," he replied, sweeping inside without waiting for an invitation. Harry reminded himself to find out what spells would be necessary to make the house Unplottable again, since apparently the mere act of opening the door served to override the wards that kept intruders away.

"What makes you think I'd want to help you?" he asked Malfoy coldly.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Because Severus Snape is alive, and I know where he is."

Harry closed the door, since it didn't look like Malfoy was going to be sweeping back out as quickly as he'd come in. "That's a lie," he accused, swallowing before he turned. "I saw him die myself." He would never forget the sight of the life dimming from Snape's dark eyes.

"You saw what you believed to be his last moments," Malfoy said with the kind of smirk that had always made Harry's hand itch to slap him. "Only a fool would believe that Severus is as easy to kill as that."

It was a lie, it had to be. Harry couldn't think of a reason why Malfoy would make up such a story unless he needed something desperately from Harry. But that supposed Malfoy knew the regrets and aches that had been keeping Harry awake since the defeat of Voldemort. And Harry had been very careful not to tell anyone that he hadn't been sleeping. "Why do you think you can use him to get my help?" Harry asked, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the door. "We didn't exactly like each other."

Malfoy's smirk quickly turned to one of disbelief. "With the praises you've been singing to the Ministry about what a hero he is? Or do you only tolerate competing heroes posthumously?" His cold gaze raked Harry from head to foot then he shook his head. "Perhaps I was mistaken," he said, and stepped beside Harry, reaching for the door.

Harry's hand shot out and stopped him. "I'll hear you out," he said, "though you'd better have more proof than just your word that he's alive."  
Malfoy looked like he wanted to shake Harry's hand off but he didn't. Slowly Harry let his hand drop and he stepped away from the door. The older man turned, no longer looking interested in leaving. In fact, Harry saw a flash of something that would have looked like desperation in any other face.  
Whatever it was, Malfoy needed it very badly. Perhaps as badly as Harry needed to know that he hadn't killed Severus Snape by leaving him to die on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. "Why don't we start with you telling me what assistance you need." If Malfoy was planning to demand something outrageous -- and Harry wouldn't have put anything past him from procuring a Philosopher's Stone to proclaiming himself Minister of Magic -- then Harry needed to find out right away.

"Why don't we sit down?" asked Malfoy with a smile that didn't cover his annoyance at Harry's reluctant manners. "You still have a house elf, don't you? Perhaps he could bring us some tea."

Mentioning the house elf had been a miscalculation on Malfoy's part. Harry might have forgiven Kreacher for his role in Sirius's death, but he would never forgive the Malfoys for theirs. And that was only one in a very long list of crimes. "If you need my help so badly, you can talk right here," he said, not bothering to disguise his anger. "What do you want from me?"

Again Malfoy looked painfully unhappy. "It's my son," he said.

This wasn't the best route to Harry's heart, either. "Has the Ministry snapped his wand, then?" he asked calmly. "Or has he merely been kicked off the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

"This is not a trivial matter, Potter!" Malfoy's cold blue eyes glittered. "He blames himself for what happened -- as if those failures were his own and not the Dark Lord's."

"Poor Draco," said Harry, not trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "What's he sorry about now? That he failed to kill Dumbledore himself? Or that he didn't stop Crabbe from getting killed by the curse he meant for my friends?"

Malfoy's lips thinned but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care about his feelings. "My son's indiscretions are not the issue here," Malfoy replied, fingers tightening on the head of his cane.

"Indiscretions?" Harry said, his mouth dropping open. "Is that what you call attempted murder?"

"He was forced into --" But then Malfoy paused, seemingly to rein in his temper, which was flaring to match Harry's. "Excuse me. I misspoke. Draco's indiscretions are exactly why I've come. I know you have no love for him --" Harry snorted. "But as difficult as you find it to believe, he had as little choice about his actions as Severus."

"Don't you dare compare them!" shouted Harry, surprising himself. Oddly enough, Malfoy did not look angry in return. In fact, he looked disconcertingly satisfied about Harry's outburst.

"You can help them both," Malfoy said slyly. His hands had relaxed over the ribbed snake's head mount of his cane. Harry vividly remembered that he kept his wand concealed inside it. This was all pointless -- Harry had seen Snape get bitten, seen his life bleeding out, seen -- what, exactly? A grievous wound. An unconscious, probably dying man. No, not probably: definitely. At least, in theory. What if he'd seen only what Snape had wanted Harry, or anyone who found him, to see?

"Come into the sitting room," he said finally, turning without a word toward the first room off the hallway.

Malfoy looked much more at home in the faded richness of the parlor than Harry felt. The aristocratic gaze swept the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet. Had Lucius and Narcissa visited this house while Sirius's mother was still alive? Harry thought it likely, and wondered how decrepit it must look now by comparison. Indeed, Malfoy sighed softly. "I remember sitting with Regulus Black in this room. I suspected that he intended to flee the Dark Lord's service. I tried to give him one last chance; I warned him of the consequences."

"Then how could you have been foolish enough to let your own son join the Death Eaters?" demanded Harry, sitting on the worn sofa and gesturing for Malfoy to take the chair opposite.

"I had no choice in the matter," Malfoy replied curtly, smoothing his robes as he sat. "Potter, I am aware that you dislike me..."

"'Despise' would be a better word," Harry interrupted.

Malfoy appeared unconcerned. "Albus Dumbledore disliked me as well. Yet you testified to the Ministry that he asked Severus Snape to kill him in order to protect my son from a murder charge."

Of course the Malfoys would think that the horror of murder lay in the risk of being sent to Azkaban, not in the deed itself. "I didn't testify to defend Draco. I testified so that the Ministry would understand that Snape didn't murder Dumbledore, but was acting on Dumbledore's wishes," Harry said.

"Yes, yes." Malfoy nodded impatiently. "But why do you suppose Dumbledore would have wished to protect my son?"

Harry studied a worn, fraying spot on the carpet. Reluctantly, he admitted, "I suppose Dumbledore must have believed Draco could still be a good person."

"The Headmaster saw something in Draco he believed was worth preserving." Malfoy sounded satisfied. One ringed finger stroked between the glittering gem-set eyes of the snake head on top of his cane.

Harry wanted to leap out of his seat and shout that Dumbledore believed that of nearly everyone, even someone as undeserving as Lucius Malfoy himself; Dumbledore's code of honor would have required that he protect the soul of Draco Malfoy even if Draco had been a squib or a Muggle. But Harry didn't want to waste time arguing. "You still haven't told me what any of this has to do with me. Or with Snape," he said. "I assume you must have been the one who took his body from the Shrieking Shack -- "

"He is not dead," Malfoy repeated. "I'll take you to him as soon as Draco is cleared of all charges. Do we have an agreement?"

Harry sat back in the chair, ignoring the creaking sound it made. He still didn't quite believe that Snape might be alive, but it was almost as hard to believe that Lucius Malfoy had come to Harry's house to ask for help. "You want me to help Draco. Me," he muttered. It wasn't that he hadn't known Malfoy would do anything for his son; it was that Malfoy would think Harry might cooperate. Strangely, the dislike on Malfoy's face restored Harry's equilibrium. Malfoy did seem truly desperate, which meant, in theory, that what he was saying might be true as well. "What exactly is it that you want me to do? Has Draco been arrested?" He hadn't been reading the _Daily Prophet_ but he thought Hermione would have mentioned it if news like that had broken.

Malfoy shook his head. "Not yet." Emotion flashed momentarily across the aristocratic features. "I have reason to believe a list of charges is being drawn up," he continued, striving to keep his voice level.

Harry nodded. That sounded more like the Ministry. "You can't bribe his way out of it?"

For the first time Malfoy looked away, seemingly observing the progress of the glittering dust motes caught in the sunshine pouring in the parlor window. "There is a mood at the Ministry that is more unrestrained than after the previous downfall of the Dark Lord."

That sounded like they were out for blood. Unwittingly the image of Draco as he'd looked in the bathroom at Hogwarts after Harry had slashed him with the _Sectumsempra_ spell swam into Harry's mind. "Why Draco and not you?" he asked somewhat belligerently.

"Because, Potter, I am a man of influence and means, with extremely loyal friends. Moreover, I have already served time in Azkaban, and the testimony of your friends helped convince others that I was compelled to obey the Dark Lord or suffer immediate death."

Unfortunately, that was probably true. Ron had taken great glee in describing Lucius Malfoy's terror of Voldemort, and the quotes had made it into the _Prophet_. Now Malfoy was using his own cowardice as evidence that he had had no choice. "Why doesn't Draco tell them the same thing, then? Tell them he only joined the Death Eaters to protect you and his mother, then he couldn't see a way out without being killed?"

"Minerva McGonagall." Malfoy spat the name, "Her testimony will ruin him. She is set on destroying Draco for the unfortunate incidents at Hogwarts. And she is not alone -- that blood traitor Horace Slughorn has always held a grudge against my family."

Harry did not mention that he had always thought that to be one of Slughorn's finest qualities. "Professor McGonagall might not insist that Draco deserved to be in Azkaban if she was sure he couldn't hurt anyone at Hogwarts again," he said. "Maybe if you withdrew him from school and sent him far away, Durmstrang perhaps..."

"Durmstrang is not accepting transfer students at this time." A muscle twitched in Malfoy's jaw. Harry was about to laugh about the fact that Draco's preferred school refused to have him when Malfoy continued, "It isn't that simple. Even with the Dark Lord gone, the Ministry requires a living scapegoat -- someone to serve as the public face for their own failures. The more obvious candidates are all dead."

"Which leaves Draco," Harry nodded. An ugly suspicion had begun to form. "Though if Snape isn't dead, he's an obvious candidate as well." Malfoy waved his fingers negligently in response. It chilled Harry that Snape's life was the sole leverage point between them. He took a steadying breath. "Are you telling me that you hid Snape away so you would have someone else to toss them if you couldn't figure out a way to save your son?"

Malfoy's eyes were full of loathing. "You understand nothing, Potter. Severus saved Draco's life. He protected my wife. I did not hide him away only to bargain --"

"Then let me see him." Immediately Harry regretted the urgency in his voice, for Malfoy's expression turned calculating, but it was too late to change tactics. Harry put away the litany of questions to which he wanted to demand answers and said, "If you want my help, you'll bring me to Snape first."

Malfoy schooled his features so that they showed regret that Harry was certain he did not feel. "I'm afraid that's impossible at this moment." One hand slid off the head of his cane and into his robes. "I did, however, anticipate your skepticism, and have brought proof of my claim." He pulled out a folded piece of parchment and held it out between them. Harry took it, staring down at the square of parchment before unfolding it. "I presume you will recognize the handwriting," Malfoy said. "In case you believe that it was faked, Severus said that only you would understand the contents."

Harry's heart was in his throat. His hand trembled. Rather than allow Malfoy to watch him reading the letter, he got to his feet, striding over to the window and turning his back on his visitor.

_Potter_, the letter began. Indeed, the handwriting was perfectly familiar to anyone who'd read the Prince's Potions text as closely as Harry had. _I trust that you have not tossed Lucius out on his arse despite your hot-headed inclination to do so. I told him that you would demand proof of my continued existence, which you now hold in your hand. There is something I believe only you and I are aware of: your guide through the Forest of Dean toward the Sword of Gryffindor. If young Weasley had not dived into the icy pool to rescue you, I would have been forced to get my robes wet that evening._

_I have no reason to expect your cooperation, knowing your feelings for me --_

Harry's chest clenched, until he realized Snape thought he still hated him. The words swam a moment before he found his place again and continued reading.

_\-- and I have nothing to offer on my own behalf. Lucius has outlined his plan to keep Draco out of Azkaban to me and I find it sound, though naturally, I told him you would not go along with it. In theory, if you reviewed the memories I provided for you --_

Harry smiled despite himself. Leave it to Snape to think of the desperate struggle to retrieve his dying memories in such bland terms.

_\--you will understand that your mother was not always unkindly disposed toward me. If there is any part of her in you, perhaps you will take this into consideration when deciding whether to aid Lucius in his quest. Draco made many of the same mistakes that I did as a young man. Your assistance will cost you very little and may do a great deal of good._

Lucius has a list of potion ingredients that will aid me in my recovery. If you have any questions to ask me, you may deliver them in person. Lucius will not hinder you if he thinks there is any hope you will help him. He believes that you represent Draco's last chance for freedom, and he seems certain that I must have some mystical influence over you because we haven't killed each other yet.

The note was signed with Snape's usual scrawl. Harry read it over again before folding it up. It still might have been some sort of trick, but he couldn't guess why Snape would try to trick him now, certainly not with the assistance of the Malfoys. If there was some critical bit of the story that neither Malfoy nor Snape had told him, after what he had been through with Voldemort, Harry thought he would be ready to deal with it once he figured it out.

"I'll help you," he said without turning around.

He could tell Malfoy had expected more of an argument when he finally did turn back to face him. "I --" Malfoy began then stopped. "Thank you," he said finally.

"But I'll want to see Snape first. Do you have the list of ingredients?" Harry waved the note, presuming Malfoy had read it. Malfoy was already pulling another sheet from his robes. Harry went back to his chair and took it. "He's really alive?"

"The Malfoy fortune can do many things, but bringing Severus Snape back from the dead is not one of them."

Apparently keeping Draco out of Azkaban was another. It all still seemed too straightforward; Malfoy had never once dealt fairly with Harry, and Snape had never been completely honest with him either, at least not until he'd had to be. The list of ingredients was clear enough...a few rare items, plus one that Harry doubted was legal, but nothing Malfoy couldn't have procured himself without raising suspicion. There was no reason Snape would have had to suggest Harry come to him with questions unless, for some reason, Snape wanted to talk to him.

"We'll go tomorrow," Harry told Malfoy. He wished he could insist on seeing Snape right away, but it would take him a few hours to track down everything on the list. "Just tell me where."


	2. Chapter 2

"I still think it's a very bad idea." Scowling, Hermione crossed her arms. "You don't owe them anything, Harry! Not even Snape. He did what he did for Dumbledore, not for you."

"For my mother," Harry said, shifting his packages from one arm to the other. "And even supposing you're right, and they're all up to something, what would you have me do -- try to turn them in to the Ministry?"

"That's exactly what I'd do! Think about it!" Aiming her wand, Hermione put a hovering charm on the heaviest package -- the one she had brought over herself, containing items Harry had begged George Weasley for help procuring, since he knew George wouldn't ask questions. "Why would Snape let Lucius Malfoy hide him away? It doesn't make any sense. Either the Malfoys are holding him against his will, in which case you'd be putting yourself and him both in danger if you try to rescue him, or he's in league with them."

"To keep Draco out of Azkaban."

"If he only wanted you to keep Draco out of Azkaban, he'd have said so! In that letter! Without making you promise anything to Lucius Malfoy!"

Harry remembered all too well what had happened to Hermione inside Malfoy's house. "Listen, I don't trust him either. You know that. I think he's despicable," he assured her. "But Snape asked for my help. The only reason I'm still alive is because of him. And if you're right that the Malfoys are up to something, then I don't dare ignore him and I can't bring in the Ministry -- we both know how the Malfoys behave when they're frightened."

"Precisely. If you think Lucius is frightened for his son, can you imagine what Draco feels like? He's dangerous, Harry. They all are. You know what they're capable of doing, even with Voldemort gone. Ask yourself whether seeing Snape is really worth unleashing that on the world."

"Of course it is!" Harry answered without hesitating. He felt Hermione studying him closely and blushed, pretending to sort out the ingredient bundles on the kitchen counter before looking up. Hermione was still waiting. "What?" he demanded.

"Harry, is there something going on that you aren't telling me? I know you, and I know when you're up to something."

Leaving the bundles in a heap, Harry leaned one hip on the counter and faced her. "I told you about all that stuff I saw from Snape's memories," he said, trying to make it appear that he wasn't choosing his words carefully. She nodded. "I feel a bit...sorry for Snape."

Hermione made an indelicate noise. "He won't thank you for that." She didn't look convinced but she didn't press him any further. "Don't underestimate him. Any of them." Before Harry could tell her that of course he wouldn't underestimate the Malfoys, Hermione ran a finger along the counter top. "I just thought maybe you...liked Snape now."

"What?" he sputtered, mind whirling to think what he might have done to give himself away.

"I mean, he did save you all those times, and he must not have loathed you, not as much as you thought he did." She sidled a glance toward him. "And you've been all _mopey_ since you found out his body went missing."

"Have not --" Harry began, then he ran a hand through his hair. "All right, I have. I thought --" He shook his head, not faking the shudder those memories brought him. "Something horrible happened after we left him there."

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, reaching out to pat his arm. "You've always had that 'saving people' thing. Even when they're dead." She made a face. "Or supposed to be dead." Harry was so relieved that she wasn't pressing for more of an explanation, he let the 'saving people' remark pass uncontested. "Just be careful," she cautioned. "Just because Snape is alive doesn't mean he's going to start taking in stray puppies and running through fields of flowers."

Harry laughed, trying to picture Snape doing either one. "Oh, that reminds me, I was going to take him a kitten to help with his recovery." He looked around as though there might be one in the kitchen while Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Kidding!" he said, smirking.

She rolled her eyes at him. "That's not funny! You could be walking into a trap and I'm only trying to get you to take it seriously."

"I have to go, to at least see for myself if he's alive," Harry said, getting a net bag out of one of the kitchen drawers. "There are easier ways of getting to me if Malfoy had wanted to than some elaborate hoax to convince me Snape is alive." He started shoving the asked-for ingredients into the bag. "And Malfoy wouldn't have any reason to think I'd care unless Snape himself had told him I'd seen those memories, because I'm pretty certain neither you or Ron told him about them." He slung the bag onto his arm. "If it makes you feel better, if I'm not back in an hour, send the Ministry to Malfoy Manor."

She snorted again. "Oh, Harry," she said, shaking her head. "If you're not back in an hour, I'm going there myself."


	3. Chapter 3

_I just thought maybe you...liked Snape now._ The words taunted Harry as he made an attempt to straighten his clothes and hair, not wanting to give Malfoy one more reason to sneer at his appearance. It was ridiculous to be nervous -- apprehensive, yes, even afraid, because it did make sense that the Malfoys were up to more than Lucius had said, and Snape could be their prisoner or could even be involved in whatever it was. Putting those thoughts aside, he forced himself to concentrate. London to Wiltshire was a long way to Apparate, and who knew what wards or traps might be waiting on the other side?

Yet when Harry arrived at the gates of the Malfoy estate, everything looked calm and undisturbed. Too much so, in fact -- vines were creeping up the gateposts, and there was rust on the latch when he turned it to step through. Clearly it wasn't just Draco who was suffering for his role as a supporter of Voldemort. The gardens were overgrown, their wilting flowers scenting the air with sweet decay.

Harry had raised his hand to the large brass knocker when the door opened by itself. "Come in, Potter," Lucius Malfoy's voice instructed from inside.

"Aren't we going to Snape?" demanded Harry, not wishing to spend a moment inside the Malfoy house if he could avoid it. He remembered too vividly what had transpired the last time he had been there.

"We are, but we have some business to discuss first."

Harry sighed impatiently. "I've said I'll do what I can to help Draco. I already wrote a letter to Professor McGonagall." That letter had mostly been about a different matter -- Harry had asked to be present when repairs began in the Room of Requirement, hoping to find what was left of the Half-Blood Prince's Potions textbook, as well as anything his father or Sirius might have hidden inside. But he had mentioned his concern that Draco might end up in prison, and then whatever good in him Dumbledore had sought to preserve would be lost.

"Potter." That _was_ Draco, speaking from the shadows behind his father. Harry had to step forward just to see him. Even in the dim light, he could make out Draco's red eyes and pasty skin. Draco looked as terrible as his father had suggested. Harry's surprise must have shown on his face, because Draco smiled mirthlessly and added, "Severus looks even worse."

"Yes, but he was bitten by a poisonous snake. What happened to you?"

"Go back inside, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said sharply, pointing with his walking stick for emphasis. Then, turning, he strode toward Harry in the doorway. "Very well, I shall take you to Severus. We can speak on the way."

"Aren't we Apparating?" asked Harry as Malfoy marched forward, the heavy door slamming itself behind him.

"That will not be necessary. As you no doubt suspected, I have kept him safe on my own property." With the cane he indicated a path through the overgrown garden. Harry had never been further than the inside of the house -- he didn't suppose the dungeon in the basement counted. "You've brought the ingredients," Malfoy said, as they rounded the corner of the house and set out deeper into the garden. "Good. Severus is very anxious to complete his recovery."

There was a slight rise to the path and a glass-fronted gazebo cresting the hill in front of them. Malfoy was making straight for it, though Harry could see that it was empty. "I shall require more than a letter to help Draco," Malfoy said, pushing open the lattice grill of the gazebo door. Harry followed him inside. It was an eight-sided room, the afternoon sun slanting in through the dirty windows. "I want you to testify on his behalf."

"If I testify for Draco Malfoy, McGonagall herself will have me tested for being under Imperius," Harry said, slinging the net bag off his shoulder.

Malfoy's nostrils flared but he was obviously trying to look reasonable, much as he had that day in the Department of Mysteries when he'd tried to convince Harry to surrender the Prophecy. "It isn't any more far-fetched than testifying on behalf of Severus Snape," he pointed out.

"_He_ was a hero--or is a hero," Harry said remembering their earlier sparring and trying to keep his temper. Lucius would use Harry's emotions in his own favor.

"Yet you hated each other almost from the moment you laid eyes on each other," Malfoy said. "Only your testimony restored his good name. Dumbledore left no proof of his innocence."

Harry had his own suspicions about that but didn't voice them aloud. "My testimony was the truth. I saw Snape's memories. I don't have any such proof to clear Draco."

"Severus can provide testimony as well," Malfoy said. As he did, he stepped to the edge of the rug on the floor of the gazebo, motioning for Harry to step off it. He waved the cane and the rug began rolling itself up, revealing the outline of a hatch with a heavy iron ring set into it. Another wave of the cane and the door began to lift. Alone of all the manor, the door seemed recently tended as it opened. Beneath was a staircase. Harry peered down but the stairs seemed to descend a long way.

"He's down there," Malfoy said, nodding for Harry to go ahead.

"Right," Harry said with a barely suppressed snort. "You're going first. You forget I've been a 'guest' of yours before." Hermione had made sure he had his wand handy before sending him on his way and he was grateful for its comforting shape as Malfoy studied him. He held out the bag with potions ingredients. "You can carry this down too." It might keep Malfoy's hand occupied if Harry needed to go for his own wand.

For a moment Malfoy looked outraged, mouth thinning with anger. Very stiffly he reached out to take the bag. Draco must have been in a lot of trouble, Harry thought as Malfoy swung the bag onto his shoulder and stepped onto the stairs. Harry let him descend until the top of his head was level with the floor before following. It wasn't completely dark, not even when the gazebo floor disappeared from view. The hazy light below hinted at candles, a guess that was proven when they reached a landing that had two staircases off it. One was dark, the other lit by several sconces along the walls. "This way," Malfoy said, staying in front of Harry without being ordered to.

"Where does the other one go?" he asked, thinking if he had to make a run for it he would want to know the terrain.

"Back to the house," replied Malfoy, with a look over his shoulder that made Harry think he knew exactly why Harry had asked. Given the level at which they were walking, it probably led into the dungeon -- not a place Harry wished ever to see again.

They started descending again, but there were more candles. Harry strained for any sounds from below but could only hear his and Malfoy's steps upon the stairs. "How did you get him down here?" he asked as the stairs veered around a mass of rock and plunged again.   
"On a stretcher," Malfoy said. "I levitated it while Draco maneuvered it."

It sounded difficult and probably had been, especially with a critically wounded man on the stretcher. Harry tried not to think of how he would have felt it if had been him guiding that stretcher instead of Draco. Ahead he could see more light as the stairs leveled off, then the walls of the passageway broadened until Harry could see that they were in a large room, much larger than the gazebo above. "Severus?" Malfoy called out. "I've brought you a visitor."

If it was a trick, Harry knew now was the time Death Eaters would jump out of the dark places and capture him. He tensed, listening for the reply. Then a voice Harry had thought he would never hear again replied, "Is it Potter? Tell him it's about time."

"Professor?" cried out Harry, his heart starting to beat very fast. The voice was softer, and strained, but it was unmistakably the one that had criticized Harry's potions for six years. He stepped around Malfoy, ignoring the room's furnishings in favor of the canopied bed at the far end of the room. There was a figure propped up in it, nearly hidden by blankets, black hair fanned out on a pillow. A thick, inexpert bandage had been applied to Snape's neck.

"I told you he would come," Snape said, struggling to sit up in the bed.

"Let's hope he is less stubborn about other things as well," Malfoy said, unstringing the bag and leaving it on the small table.

Harry stepped closer to the bed, uncertain what to do, especially when the pounding in his chest made it hard to speak. He swallowed and forced his shoulders back so he could make sure Snape could see him as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. "What's the last thing you said to me?" he asked.

Malfoy, standing on the other side of the bed, looked at Harry curiously. Snape, however, nodded in approval. "Look at me," he said, his voice dropping still further.

"It's really you," said Harry, his shoulders sagging in relief. He would have to thank Hermione for helping him think of something only he and Snape would know as a test.

"What's left of me," Snape agreed with an unreadable look in Malfoy's direction. "As Lucius has explained, I require your assistance."

"Anything. Just tell me what to do." Now it was Harry himself who was the object of an odd look from Snape. "I wouldn't have known what to do if you hadn't...done what you did." Harry had no idea precisely how much Snape had told Malfoy about his real loyalties, nor how much Malfoy or even Snape had known about the source of Voldemort's power. Did Snape realize that Nagini had held a fragment of Voldemort's soul? Harry wasn't sure, nor did he know whether it would affect what Snape needed to recover.

"I require more garlic," Snape told Malfoy. "A few cloves will do, but I must have them immediately."

"As soon as Potter..." began Malfoy.

"Now. If Potter has managed to find the orange root --"

"I did. Fresh from Italy," Harry put in.

" -- then I will need the garlic at once."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to hex someone, but he pressed his lips together and forced a smile. "I shall go and fetch it, then," he said, and withdrew, striding imperiously down the passage through which he and Harry had come.

"We haven't much time and I am not certain this room is not monitored," Snape murmured as soon as Malfoy had disappeared down the dim corridor. "These wounds are not healing properly. I suspect that the snake carried a powerful curse..."

Harry knew he had only a few seconds to make a decision about whether to tell Snape everything he knew. Dumbledore had stressed the need for secrecy about the horcruxes, and apparently Dumbledore hadn't even told Snape, but that probably had had more to do with Snape's proximity to Voldemort than with issues of trust -- Dumbledore had told Harry that he trusted Severus Snape with his life. "The snake was a horcrux," Harry said.

Snape's eyed widened, then his cheeks flushed with a fury with which Harry was all too familiar. "Of course," he hissed. "That was how the Dark Lord returned. And the ring as well -- the force of that curse -- I have been a fool."

"I don't think Dumbledore knew, either, until he found the ring. Suspected, maybe, but he couldn't be sure." Snape's glare turned on Harry, and for a moment he thought he was about to be subjected to one of the professor's familiar scoldings, but then Harry realized that it wasn't himself at whom Snape wished to shout. "Dumbledore thought I had to be the one to destroy them," he added quickly.

Snape's anger seemed to vanish as quickly as it had arisen. "I won't be needing the garlic, then," he said with a small, ironic smile. "Potter. Can you be trusted to brew a complicated potion without the aid of my notes?"

Harry felt himself blushing. "I think so," he said. "Although maybe you should ask Draco, he was a better student -- "

"Do not speak about any of this to Draco! Tell the Malfoys nothing, is that clear?" Snape's weakness had not sapped the force from his voice. It made Harry shiver in a way that had nothing to do with being afraid, though he hoped Snape couldn't tell that. "In any case, I guessed correctly that only you could help me. I will require your blood."

"My blood?" Harry asked apprehensively.

"Don't look so alarmed. I don't require you to sacrifice your life. In theory, a few drops should suffice." Again Snape offered a mirthless smirk. "Or would you prefer to risk that a remnant of the Dark Lord's curse remain alive in me?"

"I wouldn't wish that on anyone," Harry said sincerely.

"Even your least favorite professor?" Snape's fingers gripped the dark grey blanket. Harry shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"You aren't my --" He was aware that Malfoy might be back any second or that their conversation might not be private. "I want to do anything I can to help."

Nodding, Snape shifted upright in the bed. "The potion, then. I have no desire to give this curse a chance to spread further." For a moment Harry thought Snape was going to try to get out of bed, but he merely lifted up, wincing when a tendril of hair caught on the edge of the bandage. Once settled, he gestured toward the table laden with brewing equipment and Harry's ingredients. "You'll have to follow my instructions carefully."

Harry stepped away from the side of the bed. "One thing first," he said, pulling out his wand. He was glad Malfoy hadn't returned yet when he cast his Patronus. He leaned forward and gave it a message for Hermione that he was safe and would be longer than an hour before sending it on its way. He felt a bit sheepish as he put his wand back in his pocket but Snape's look was approving.

"Miss Granger's idea?"

"Mine," Harry admitted. "Though neither of us trusts your hosts." He started unpacking the ingredients he'd brought while the water in the cauldron began to bubble.

For the next several minutes, Harry followed Snape's directions, though it was indeed the most complicated potion he'd brewed, with or without the Prince's help. "Wait, counter-clockwise how many times?" he asked, trying not to lose count of how many times he'd already stirred the orange-scented potion.

"Seven, then a half rotation clockwise," Snape repeated. More than once he'd looked like he wanted to fling the covers aside and take over the brewing, a sure sign to Harry of the severity of Snape's injury since he remained in bed, calling out directions. While Harry was stirring, Snape added, "When in doubt, seven -- being a powerfully magical number -- is always a better choice than doing something insufficiently."

"Still trying to teach me Potions?" Harry asked, counting off the strokes before counter-rotating then repeating the motions.

"Have I ever been successful?" replied Snape. Harry could see that he was mouthing the counts of the stirring rod with Harry.

"We'll know if this potion works," Harry said, counting off the last half rotation. The potion gave off a cloud of goldish-orange steam. "Is that it?" he asked. Unlike most potions he'd worked on under Snape's tutelage, this one didn't smell vile or look like it had been scraped off the bottom of a muddy boot.

"One final ingredient," Snape said, watching Harry grimly. "Yours is the only blood that can counteract the Dark Lord's magic, unless you know of someone else who survived his Killing Curse. A few drops should be sufficient, with the --"

"Silver knife," Harry finished for him, earning himself another approving look. There had been one with the brewing equipment, unused so far. He cast another look toward the landing where Malfoy had still not reappeared, then took the knife and held it over his hand. "Does it matter from where?"

"Actually --" Snape sounded hesitant for the first time since they'd begun. Still holding the knife, Harry swung around to see what was wrong. Snape cleared his throat again, "It would be better -- more powerful -- if I took it."

Harry had been around magic enough to understand the idea of it, though it would take Hermione to explain the magical theory behind it. He headed back over to the bed.

"Bring a goblet," Snape instructed, clearly trying to sound as business-like as possible. Right, it was just blood, nothing weird about that, Harry thought as he brought over one of the goblets, passing the knife to Snape. Wordlessly he held out his hand, holding the goblet in the other. Snape's fingers were warm and dry. He turned Harry's hand over, rubbing one fingertip over his palm. "From the lifeline I think," he said, waiting for Harry's nod to prick the knife in with surprising gentleness.

Blood welled up and Snape turned Harry's hand over and let it drain a few drops into the goblet. Then he took a piece of the bandaging material and placed it over the nick. "Heal it," he instructed. "Don't let it get infected." He indicated the simmering cauldron. "Add this and we'll see if you've followed the instructions correctly."

Tipping the goblet over the cauldron, Harry stepped back as another cloud of steam roiled out, this one more golden still. The cloud hovered for a moment, then dissipated in a shower of pink and gold and orange.

"You may have done it, Mr. Potter," Snape said. His eyes had followed the evaporating cloud as Harry's had.

"In theory. If not, I've always got more blood," Harry said, taking the time to pass his wand over the small cut on his palm.

"But I may not have much more time," Snape said and Harry looked up at the grim tone. After the healing spell, his hand no longer stung, but a residual tingling remained, as well as the echo of Snape's thumb rubbing his palm...a feeling that seemed to spread upward into Harry's arm and across his chest, tingling more strongly. Flushing, Harry turned away again, telling himself that it was undoubtedly an aftereffect of the magic of Snape taking his blood. Hopefully it would make the potion stronger.

Another smell, less pleasant, intruded on the sweet scent filling the air. A moment later, Malfoy stepped from the dim corridor into the brighter room. He reeked of dirt and garlic and something else -- something singed.

"I apologize for taking so long, Severus," Malfoy said curtly, sniffing what remained of the steam.

"Don't tell me you had trouble finding garlic in your own garden." Snape's brows were still lowered in a scowl and he sniffed loudly. Harry wondered whether Snape, too, could smell the odd burning residue clinging to Malfoy's robes. "Would you mind chopping those cloves for me? I believe that Potter has provided the necessary potion for the curse, but the snake bite itself will still require treatment."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to stab at something besides garlic, but he dropped the pile of bulbs onto the table, cast a cleaning charm and set a knife to work chopping them, watching Harry, who peered into the liquid now simmering in the cauldron. "Is that finished?" he asked pointedly, wrinkling his nose as if the potion, and not the garlic -- and his own dirty robes -- had fouled the air in the room. "What did you put in that potion, Potter?"

"Angelica and dandelion root," Harry said vaguely, darting a glance at Snape, who was studying Malfoy.

"Dip the goblet into the cauldron and put a cooling charm on it at once," Snape instructed. Harry did so, aware of Malfoy's eyes on him. "Now bring it to me. You might have observed him if you had returned in a timely manner, Lucius."

"I was unavoidably detained," Malfoy replied irritably, scowling as the knife that had been chopping garlic clattered to the tabletop. "I suppose you expect me to make you a poultice from this."

"Do you believe that Draco is up to the task?" asked Snape. There was a long silence. Then Malfoy began to gather the garlic, using his own hands. Startled, Harry looked at Snape in confusion. Snape shook his head in warning, holding out one hand for the potion. Harry hurried over, careful not to slosh it, since he'd filled the goblet nearly to the brim. "If he needs rest, I can recommend a sleeping draught for him," Snape said while Malfoy chopped with a fury Harry hadn't displayed.

"He _needs_ to have this cloud of suspicion over his head dealt with," Malfoy ground out.

Harry stood beside the bed, looking between them uncertainly, feeling he'd walked into the middle of a long-standing argument. Snape took a cautious sip of the potion. Bracing, Harry waited for some sort of reaction. He'd been around magic long enough to know that an ill-brewed potion could cause anything from boils to bleeding and that a perfectly done one could work miracles. The miracle here was that Snape took another sip without criticizing the potion. When the goblet was empty, Snape handed it back. He gave the briefest of nods and Harry relaxed. Apparently Snape didn't want Malfoy to know if the potion might be working.

"I'll do what I can," Harry said, setting the empty goblet on the counter. "You've honored your side of the bargain, I'll honor mine."

For the first time since returning to the underground room Malfoy stopped scowling. He gestured for the mortar and pestle on a shelf over the sink. Harry grabbed it and helped heap the pulverized garlic into the basin. "I'll need your help first with the headmistress," Malfoy said, resuming a bit of his former smugness.

"I already wrote a letter --" Harry began but Malfoy waved away his protests.

"You must speak with her in person," said Malfoy, adding a handful of powder from the labeled jars on the counter and grinding it into the garlic. "She was your Head of House; she may be amenable to your persuasion."

"Minerva McGonagall will listen to Potter," Snape said from the bed. Harry thought his voice sounded strange and looked at him. There was sweat on his forehead. Malfoy continued mixing ingredients for the poultice, oblivious. Something on Harry's face must have shown his distress, but Snape shook his head before he could say anything.

Malfoy nodded, sending whiffs of that strange smoky scent up in a cloud. Harry watched as Snape wiped his face with the edges of the blanket even though his forehead was quickly dewed again. He coughed, but Malfoy did not look over. Harry fidgeted nervously, uncertain how to offer Snape aid without alerting Malfoy. "Can I do anything to help with that?" he asked, indicating the ingredients as he took a step toward Malfoy, away from Snape.

"Pass me the murtlap essence," Malfoy ordered, making a face as he squeezed a bubotuber over the garlic.

Shooting another look at Snape, who was shivering despite the sweat running down his face, Harry reached for the bottle. "What's the matter with Draco that he needs a sleeping draught?"

Behind him Snape made a distinct noise of irritation, but Harry ignored him, since he had succeeded in distracting Malfoy. The older wizard whirled, glaring at Harry. "Nothing is the matter with Draco!"

"Sleeping like a baby since the battle that killed his aunt and his best friend?"

Malfoy slammed the pestle down onto the ingredients. "My wife's sister brought her fate upon herself. Draco knows that. It is not his responsibility that the Crabbe boy used a curse he should never have learned..."

"Right, because Draco would never have used an evil curse like that, except Cruciatus and Imperius. Is that why he's in so much trouble?"

"Are you telling me that you've never used an Unforgivable Curse, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was low and dangerous, and Harry flinched. He doubted that Malfoy could have known how he had driven the Carrows away from Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts, but Bellatrix would certainly have told the Death Eaters of Harry's attempt to use _Crucio_ in the Ministry after she killed Sirius. "Draco did what he felt he had to do to defend our family. The Ministry has seen fit to overlook the use of Unforgivable Curses during those weeks."

Given the state of the Aurors after the battle, and the fact that everyone from Shacklebolt to McGonagall to Molly Weasley had used Unforgivable Curses in the presence of others, it had been a necessary compromise. But something was definitely troubling Lucius alfoy as well as his son. "You're saying that Draco is comfortable with his choices, then? That his Aunt Bella's death -- "

"Bellatrix would have killed my family without a second thought!" Malfoy's pale face had gone red with fury. "You were here, Potter, you saw! If the Dark Lord had asked, she would have murdered my son and smiled at the privilege!"

_Potter!_ It was Snape speaking, yet Harry was certain that Snape had not said anything. Indeed, when he whirled, Snape was not even looking at them, but was fussing uncomfortably with the bandage on his neck. He no longer appeared to be sweating.

Malfoy had not stopped ranting. "You promised to help Draco in return for bringing you here. I was given to understand that you knew Draco's choices were not his own." His hand reached for the walking stick, and his wand.

_Be quiet, you idiot, and get back to the poultice._ That was definitely Snape...his voice, even, though Harry was hearing it inside his head instead of in his ears. Snape had never been able to use Legilimency before without looking right at Harry, using a spell, and Harry had never had any skill with it. Was this an effect of the potion containing Harry's blood?

Taking a deep breath, Harry faced Malfoy. "I apologize," he said with difficulty. "You know that Draco almost got my friends killed. I'm -- we're all still trying to get past what happened."

Malfoy's nostrils flared but his fingers slid away from the hidden wand. He nodded tightly, visibly reining in the spike of temper. He glanced briefly at Snape and Harry tensed, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice anything wrong. Once he'd delivered the murtlap, Harry dared to look over himself. Snape was upright against the headboard, glaring at Harry. "Cut up those valerian roots," Malfoy commanded, then made a face and added, "Please." It was a peace offering and Harry knew it. He spread out a pile of them and began chopping them as finely as he could.

From the bed Snape cleared his throat. "Potter," he said, aloud this time. "Would you assist me with this bandage?"

"Of course," Harry said, pushing over the heap of roots he'd reduced to bits. He wiped his hands off on his trousers as he crossed to the bed. Close up, Snape did indeed seem no longer to be sweating or chilled. He was, however, holding the bandage, which he'd rolled into a tight ball, in his fist.

_Incinerate this_ came the voice in Harry's head, quite clearly.

"Now?" Harry said aloud, without thinking. That earned him another glare. The steady chopping from the work table, however, did not falter. Harry pulled out his wand, aiming it at the thick wad of bandages. Snape held up his other hand and held up three fingers, put down one, then another. Harry was ready. When the last finger went down he cast directly toward the bandages just as Snape tossed it off his hand. The bandages caught at once, flaring briefly, consuming the wad with hotly burning flames.

"What on earth?" came Malfoy's shout of surprise. "Don't you dare burn down my gazebo!"

"Potter, are you mad?" Snape cried out, but his expression was smug. "There was no need to resort to your usual showy tactics." Ashes littered the carpet beside the bed, the bandages having been consumed completely. Harry poked the toe of his trainer at a glowing ember. "Get rid of that mess," Snape commanded and Harry swirled his wand briefly, Scourgifying the remnants.

_What was that about?_ he thought as strongly and slowly as he could. Before Snape could answer, Malfoy snorted in disgust from the work area, and Harry cupped his hand to add the rest of the roots to the assembled ingredients.

_Curse residue_, came the enigmatic response in Harry's head. Aloud Snape said, "If you are quite finished showing off, cut a length of bandage for the poultice." The pungent smell of garlic came closer while Harry was obeying instructions.

Malfoy leaned over the bed, examining the wound. Harry had avoided looking at it, but as he brought the gauze and tape over, he risked a glance. It looked better than it had with blood gushing from it, as Harry had seen it in the Shrieking Shack -- a memory that made his belly flip flop, combined with the smell of the garlic.

Malfoy made a satisfied noise. "It does look a bit better," he proclaimed, spooning up the thick paste and plastering it over the gash in Snape's throat. Harry was ready with the bandage, pressing it gently over the gooey poultice. Snape had tilted his head back, eyes closed while they worked, though he did open them while Harry was rubbing his fingertips around the edges of the bandage to make sure it was in place. Harry shivered slightly, confused by his own reaction.

Then Snape closed his eyes again as Malfoy inspected Harry's work. "You'll never be a Healer, Potter," he muttered, though there was little bite in the declaration.

"It wasn't on my list of preferred professions anyway -- I hate the sight of blood." As he spoke, he knew it was true: he had tried not to be squeamish, but he never wanted to see anything like Snape's injuries -- or Arthur Weasley's, for that matter -- ever again.

"Help me clean up this mess," ordered Malfoy, gesturing at the table.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but followed when Snape nodded at him. The spells to sweep the leftover ingredients into a pile and drop them into the rubbish bin were as simple as the one to wipe clean the mortar and pestle, but Harry had the sense that Malfoy wanted to make him work rather than to avoid the tasks himself. The stench of garlic and herbs was still strong in the room. "I don't suppose there are any lemons?" he asked Malfoy hopefully, remembering that Aunt Petunia had made him use lemons and vinegar to rid the kitchen of cooking smells.

"Back at the house," grumbled Malfoy.

"Don't you want to go wash up? Maybe you could bring one back with you," Harry said hopefully. He wanted to talk to Snape alone. He'd been trying to think _What's going on and how long will it last?_ at Snape, but either Snape couldn't hear him or he didn't feel like answering with Malfoy in the room.

Malfoy made a cross noise, but he sniffed once and nodded. The odd singed scent still clung to his robes -- Harry could smell it even over the garlic. "Clean his chamberpot," he said smugly as he took his walking stick in hand, turning again toward the dim corridor.

_Look busy._ The command rang out in Harry's head as Snape said irritably, "The chamberpot is clean. Some spells can be performed without benefit of a wand."

Quickly Harry turned back to the table, glancing at the jars and beginning to arrange them in alphabetical order according to their contents. _Do you need a wand?_ he thought at Snape.

_Soon._ Malfoy's footsteps were receding, and Harry chanced a glance behind him. Snape was sitting up, shoving aside the bed covers. "It's very warm in here," he complained.

Harry guessed that if Snape's forehead had been dripping with sweat minutes before, his nightshirt must be drenched. It was dark green with silver trim, and probably belonged to Malfoy, since so far as Harry knew, no one had yet unsealed Snape's rooms at Hogwarts or the house at Spinner's End pending the Ministry's ongoing investigation. The shirt had dark spots under the arms and around the neck. _Do you want something else to wear?_ he thought at Snape.

"I think it's safe to speak," Snape said, "and yes, though I've nothing of my own here except the ones I had on when --" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "They are not fit to wear."

_Can you really hear my thoughts?_ Harry thought very hard.

_If you concentrate, and if I do the same_, came the echoing thought.

"Brilliant," Harry said, shaking his head slightly. If he'd been able to read Snape's thoughts at school, a lot of things would have been easier. "It is because of the blood?"

Snape's legs were bare, though Harry could see the tips of slippers peeking out from under the bed. He lifted the heavy nightshirt up to his knees, then started rolling up the sleeves in an effort to cool off. "I can think of no other explanation, unless you have been reading my thoughts and not telling me throughout your academic career."

Harry laughed. "I would have liked knowing what you were thinking," he said, "sometimes." He pulled out his own wand. "Other times I knew exactly what you were thinking without any help." He pushed up his sleeves. "Cooling charm?"

_Yes, please_ Snape thought, though he looked surprised, as though he'd meant to say it aloud. Harry took care to cast the charm non-verbally. The look on Snape's face said he'd succeeded. Then Harry turned the wand on the workbench, cleaning up the detritus of the poultice-making, not wishing to antagonize Malfoy further.

"Do you think it will last?" he asked, while Snape fanned the nightdress away from his chest.

"I've never heard of anything like this before," replied Snape. "Blood magic is notoriously tricky stuff." He tilted his face, studying Harry. "I was thinking," Snape added, with an edge of curiosity in his voice, "that blood magic is especially tricky where you are concerned."

Harry opened his mouth but too many thoughts competed to come out that he couldn't decide where to start. "It was only a few drops," he said, uncertain where Snape was going with this.

"Apparently we shared a bit more," said Snape, rubbing his fingers over the clean bandage.

_The curse?_ thought Harry, reluctant, for some reason, to say it out loud.

_No ordinary curse, but a bit of the Dark Lord's soul_, Snape said, following Harry's lead.

"I don't want to think about that," he said with a slight shudder, as though a tendril of the cooling charm had reached across the bed and touched him. All at once he felt, very keenly, their isolation. Snape was still fanning himself with the nightshirt, the bottom hitched up around his knees. "I could transfigure something of mine for you to wear," Harry suggested.

Snape waved the offer away. "It has nearly passed." He lifted one arm and made a face at the wet spot under his arm. "Perhaps a cleaning charm?"

"Right," Harry said again, flicking his wand. The spot disappeared. _You do need a wand. And some clothes._

_Modesty? After the Forest of Dean?_

Harry flushed. _You saw that?_

Snape raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, and Harry felt his face turn even hotter. His body was responding in embarrassing ways to the link between their minds -- either that, or to Snape's state of undress, even though Snape looked worse than Harry had ever seen him, with his long hair hanging in damp strands around his face and the gaunt bones of his face jutting out.

"Hasn't Malfoy been feeding you?" he blurted out.

It was Snape's turn to look embarrassed. "I have not had much appetite," he muttered. "Nor any desire to be spoon-fed by Lucius or Draco."

For some reason it made Harry glad that Snape didn't want any of the Malfoys to take care of him. But then an even worse idea occurred to him. "How much of what I think can you read?" he demanded, hoping very much that Snape didn't know the past several thoughts he had had.

Again Snape darted an unreadable glance in Harry's direction. "Only things upon which you focus with a level of attention I have rarely observed in you." Despite the implied insult, that came as a relief to Harry -- it meant that as long as Harry didn't dwell upon anything he didn't want Snape to find out about, Snape wouldn't find out. "Why do you ask? Can you read my thoughts when they are not directed at you?" asked Snape rather defensively.

"N-no," Harry admitted, though he was tempted, briefly, to find out whether he could, particularly in Snape's still-weakened state when perhaps Snape's skill at Occlumency wouldn't prevent the intrusion. His brief glimpses into Snape's thoughts, both during Occlumency lessons and in the Pensieve, had changed his life. But to try to force himself into Snape's mind would undoubtedly mean to open himself to the same, and Snape had already proven that he could force his way into Harry's mind with very little effort.

In any case, his musings were interrupted by the sound of far-off shouting. Harry couldn't make out what was being said, but he was pretty sure the voices belonged to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "What's going on around here, anyway?" he demanded.

Snape scowled, though his attitude seemed to Harry more apprehensive than angry. "Perhaps you should leave, now that you have accomplished what you came here to do."

_I'm not leaving here until I'm sure you're safe!_

Harry hadn't meant to send the thought rather than speak the words. He thought that maybe Snape would scold him for his lack of control, but Snape only nodded shortly. "I have known Lucius Malfoy nearly all my life. I am safe here. You, however, are at risk for a great deal of unpleasantness."

"At least tell me what's going on. If I'm supposed to help clear Draco's name, I think I have the right to know what his family is up to," Harry said. There was a muffled crash somewhere far in the distance. More alarmingly, the ground shook. "This _isn't_ safe," insisted Harry. "Something is up that's bad enough you don't want to tell me what it is. And you don't even have your wand. I think you should come with me."

Harry could tell that he'd startled Snape with his suggestion. "With you?" he asked, pushing the edges of the nightshirt back down over his legs.

There was a creak and a crack somewhere above them and the flames in several of the sconces flickered. "With me," Harry said more forcefully. _Now!_ He wasn't sure he could force Snape to come with him, and he knew he wasn't going to leave without him so he was relieved when Snape nodded and slid of the edge of the bed. Immediately one hand reached out and grabbed the bedpost when he swayed uncertainly.

"Can you walk?" Harry asked in alarm, moving closer.

Snape made an exasperated noise, pulling himself upright. Without thinking, Harry reached out to steady him and found himself with an armful of Snape. "Yes," came the muffled response, since Snape's mouth was buried somewhere in Harry's hair. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't, since it had happened so quickly and Harry reacted instinctively. "Just weak," Snape continued as together they got him upright, albeit still leaning on Harry's shoulder for support.

"I'll Apparate us out of here," Harry began, but Snape shook his head before Harry could reach his wand.

"This is the Malfoy family's private bolt hole; there are wards against everything on it, including Apparition." He took a tentative step, still leaning on Harry. "Why do you think Lucius walked back to the surface both times he left here?"

"Oh," Harry said, shifting his balance. "Can you make it that far?" The heavy wood and glass chandelier overhead swung, sending the flames skittering again.

"I may require assistance," said Snape, but at least he wasn't arguing anymore, not with the increasingly loud sounds of the argument raging overhead.

"Is there anything you need to take with you?" asked Harry, looking around the room. Snape was already shaking his head. They took another step, Snape's weight shifting with Harry. He was uncomfortably reminded of the flight from the sea cave with a dying Dumbledore. Harry had managed then to get them out of there; he would do the same for Snape.

Fingers tightened against his shoulder, and Snape pulled himself up, breathing hard even though they'd only taken a few steps. Harry thought in dread of the stairs ahead. "Maybe I should --" he began, about to suggest transforming something into a stretcher.

"Wait a moment," Snape commanded softly, loosening his hold on Harry's shoulder. "There's some Pepper-Up in the Potions cabinet. I brewed it myself for this retreat." He directed Harry to it and unstoppered the bottle when Harry brought it over. Harry couldn't suppress a smile when Snape sniffed it with suspicion before he drank. Two jets of steam shot out of his ears and his forehead was damp again, but there was a smidgen of color in his cheeks. "Let's try again."

Harry slid in beside him, offering his shoulder, and they set off, still more slowly than the ruckus outside warranted, but at least they were moving and Snape seemed to be getting stronger, not weaker, with the potion in him and the curse lifted. They had reached the first landing when there was a shriek above them that sounded closer than anything they'd heard before, then silence.

"Do you think --" Harry said, but Snape held up his hand for silence.

_As quickly as we can_ came the thought and Harry nodded, shifting his weight again, urging Snape to lean over his shoulders as they set off up the last set of stairs. _If Lucius is waiting above, let me deal with him._

_Can we Apparate from the grounds?_

_Yes. The idea was to safeguard the bolt hole from suspicion by keeping the wards underground._

That was good news. Harry could see the hatch above and hoped that it didn't require some sort of secret charm or password to open; that door had looked very heavy from above. He felt Snape shift against him, breathing heavily -- almost panting -- and shivered involuntarily at the sensation, though he was quite warm now from helping Snape up the steps.

_Give me your wand._ Wordlessly Harry passed it to Snape, glad of the distraction. Snape aimed it at the hatch above them, but nothing happened. When he tried again, angry red sparks sputtered from the tip. Irritably he handed it back to Harry. _You try it._

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Harry had no idea whether it was the right spell, but after a moment, the stone began to move.

_Quickly, now._ It was curious that Snape could put the same irritation into a thought as he could into his voice. Harry wondered whether his own voice sounded in Snape's head the way it sounded to Snape when Harry actually spoke, too.  
Fortunately, Malfoy had left the rug in the gazebo unrolled. Harry climbed up the remaining stairs, practically dragging Snape with him. The sun had gone down while he had been underground, so that it was even dimmer outside than it had been in the candlelit corridor. The gazebo door shut from the outside, but a standard _Alohomora_ spell opened it. _How far away do we need to be to Apparate?_ Harry thought at Snape, who was squinting through the darkness, trying to see whether any of the Malfoys were coming.

_A few more steps should be sufficient._ Snape attempted to straighten, lifting his weight from Harry's shoulders. The outside air felt suddenly cooler without that warm weight, and Harry knew that Snape must be even more chilly, dressed only in a nightshirt.

Harry had several questions that needed answers quickly, and he didn't trust himself to think them clearly. "The crack when we Apparate will be loud enough to be heard from the house," he whispered. "And even if they're distracted, Malfoy will come back soon with the lemons. He'll probably guess I took you to my house."

_I doubt that he will follow tonight._ The thought resonated in Harry's head, only it wasn't just a thought; Harry could sense that Snape was uneasy, and not about whether or not they'd be followed. Whatever had had Lucius Malfoy so distracted was worrying Snape as well.

_All right then -- hold on._ Sidelong Apparition wasn't easy even when both people doing it were concentrating fully on it, and Harry wasn't sure whether a weakened Snape might have more trouble than most. He'd managed to Apparate with Dumbledore after they'd found the Horcrux, but it had been one of his more harrowing attempts.

This was no time to be thinking about that, however. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his hand tightly around his wand and opened himself to the horrible feeling of compression that always accompanied Apparition. He opened his eyes as Snape's weight made him stumble against the front step of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.


	4. Chapter 4

"There is no need for me to remain cooped up in this house for another day," announced Snape.

"Right, except that everyone thinks you're dead, you're technically still wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore, and Malfoy's going to hex both of us as soon as we resurface."

Snape sat down carefully in the chair of the library. The bandage on his neck was barely noticeable after nearly two weeks, and he was moving much more easily, especially on the stairs. Harry had been recruited to help him brew an assortment of potions that had aided this process. "I need a wand," Snape stated as though Harry hadn't spoken. He had taken to wearing Regulus Black's old clothes, which fit him tolerably well, though without his professor's robes the jeans and faded t-shirts made him look younger.

Running a hand through his hair, Harry took the opposite chair. "I don't think it's safe yet."

"You have spoken to the Ministry on my behalf?"

Harry nodded, clasping his hands in front of him. "Several times."

They stared at each other. By unspoken consent they hadn't tried to communicate non-verbally since Harry had dragged him over the doorstep. They were cooking common meals and brewing together, though it was mostly Harry doing the chopping and measuring while Snape barked orders. They slept across the hall from each other -- he had installed Snape in Regulus's room while Harry had taken over Sirius's when he'd first moved in. They shared the same cramped loo though Snape was better at cleaning up after shaving than Harry was. He wasn't sure how he felt about having Snape inside his mind when they were together all the time like this.

"They're still disorganized, still rebuilding," Harry went on, flexing his fingers together. He was aware of Snape's scrutiny, as he had become aware of his restlessness. "I don't think it's safe," he said again.

"I can deal with Lucius," Snape said, looking vexed.

Harry shook his head. "It isn't just Malfoy." He'd been expecting Malfoy to show up on his doorstep after they'd made their escape but there had been no word. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or grateful about the silence. "I've been trying to find out if Draco will be charged."

Snape looked toward the window, though Harry kept the curtains drawn in this room since it fronted the street. "What have you discovered?"

"Mr. Malfoy has good reason to be worried. Some of those Aurors are out for blood," Harry said grimly. He remembered that he'd once cherished ambitions to be an Auror himself. "Nearly everyone lost someone when Vo --" Snape's head had jerked back toward him. "When the Dark Lord took over," Harry corrected himself. He looked down at his hands again. "At the moment, you're off the wanted list, but only because everyone thinks you're dead."

"The longer we allow that belief to continue, the angrier the Aurors will become when they learn that it was a deception." Unfortunately, Snape was right about that. "I am not proposing that we sit in the central box at a Quidditch match. Only that you allow me to make a discreet visit to a shop where I can obtain a proper wand."

"Maybe you should try mine again."

"Potter, after you gave me your own blood to keep me alive, are you trying to get me killed?"

For reasons that neither Harry nor Snape understood, Harry's wand didn't behave properly for Snape. Snape thought it must have had to do with Harry's prior possession of the Elder Wand, though Snape didn't know it had been the Elder Wand -- Snape knew only that Voldemort had insisted on having that particular wand as a weapon, and that it had failed to work against Harry even after Voldemort had tried to kill Snape for it.

"There's something you should know about the Dark Lord's wand," Harry began hesitantly.

Snape rolled his eyes. "I am aware that the feather in its core came from the same phoenix as the one in yours."

"That's not what I meant. Not the wand I meant. Dumbledore's wand, the one Vol -- the one the Dark Lord wanted -- it was one of three magical objects."

Now Snape's eyes were on Harry, hawk-like. "What were the other two?"

"One's my, um..." Too late Harry realized his mistake. He was already gesturing toward his room. Snape's glare had grown fierce. "My invisibility cloak."

"Aha." There was smug satisfaction in Snape's tone. "So _that_ is how you snuck out of your dormitory night after night."

"I didn't sneak out night after night! And anyway, that's not the point. We were talking about the wand."

"No, we were talking about three mysterious magical objects that for some reason you have chosen not to mention until this moment. What is the third?"

"That's really not -- fine, it's a stone." Bringing this up had been a big mistake. "Dumbledore called it the Resurrection Stone."

"Resurrection." Snape's lips pressed tightly together. "As in, capable of bringing back the dead. Did you ever witness this stone at work?"

"Yes, in a way."

It was probably a good thing that Snape didn't have a wand, because if he had had one, Harry was sure it would now be aimed directly at him. "And where might this stone be, now?" asked Snape in a low growl.

Bringing this up had been one of the biggest mistakes Harry had ever made. "Well," he stalled again. "I dropped it in the Forbidden Forest."

Snape rose and crossed to the window, moving the curtain aside a bit to peer out. "If I understand you correctly," he said, in a voice that Harry knew all too well from Potions class, usually from the moment before Snape presented Harry's work as an example of everything someone could do wrong. "You are telling me that you dropped a Resurrection Stone capable of raising the dead in the Forbidden Forest where someone might come across it and bring back the Dark Lord."

Realizing that his fists were balled up, Harry forced himself to unclench them as he joined Snape by the window. "It's not like that. I don't know what it does exactly, but it can't bring anyone back for good." He saw Snape peering at him from around the doxy-eaten curtain. "Don't you think I would have used it on you if it did?"

_Potter --_ Snape began. Harry was startled at hearing the voice inside his head again but Snape frowned and the voice stopped. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry looked away. "You are referring to the Deathly Hallows," Snape said, letting the curtain fall back into place. When Harry looked up in surprise, Snape went on. "I read Beedle the Bard as a child. Whether this is an attempt to mock me or you seriously believe these delusions, the Deathly Hallows are just stories."

"They're more than that," Harry insisted in an urgent tone. "Dumbledore believed the stories and so did the Dark Lord. I had to get rid of the stone -- had to keep all the Hallows apart."

Snape's fingers clenched again in the curtain. "You had all three?"

Harry nodded miserably. Snape leaned back against the window frame, arms crossed over his chest. He had that look that he got when he was thinking up new ways to give Harry detention. What he said instead was, "You have the cloak safe?"

"It's in my room. Why?"

"Who else knows about the Hallows?" asked Snape instead of answering properly.

"Just Ron and Hermione," Harry answered, feeling uneasy. He remembered Dumbledore telling him about the obsession surrounding the Hallows and wondered if he could detect this in Snape.

"Of course." Snape nodded and looked at Harry again. "I suppose the stone may be safe enough for now, but do not broadcast its existence beyond this room." He sighed. "That may explain your wand's reluctance to obey me. Like blood magic, wand lore is very complicated and mired with superstition." He looked frustrated, which Harry could understand, but he was glad of that frustration, for he hoped it meant that Snape did not intend to become like Dumbledore and obsess about the Hallows. Snape seemed to come to some sort of decision. "We'll have to elicit Lucius's help then," he said, pushing away from the window sill.

"What?" yelped Harry. "What for?"

"To get a non-cursed wand for me," replied Snape as though Harry had missed an easy question in class.

"I can get you a wand," Harry protested, only to be subjected to one of those hard stares that usually presaged a stern --

"Potter, if you attempt to obtain a wand, for any reason, questions will be raised, since your own wand is suitably famous for the singular deed of vanquishing the Dark Lord," Snape explained. "Lucius, however, has the proper connections."

"Shady friends, you mean," Harry said with a huffy snort.

"Shady friends may be what we need right now," said Snape thoughtfully.

There was something about the way he said 'we' that made Harry feel like he was hearing Snape inside his head again, as though the loss of Snape's wand was a problem they both had to solve together. "Do you want me to send him an owl?" he asked reluctantly. "Or did you want to do it yourself?"

Snape was still looking at him as if he were particularly slow. "Didn't you just say that you have an Invisibility Cloak?"

"Yes, but -- wait, you can't actually intend to drop by unannounced at the Malfoys!"

"Why not? Lucius is one of my oldest friends."

"Because you're not going anywhere without me, and the last place _I_ want to be dropping by unannounced is the Malfoys!" Snape cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed with Harry's outburst. "The last time we were there, we had to sneak away because something bad was going on. I think we've been lucky Malfoy hasn't turned up here trying to hex us both."

"Lucius will be aware of your inquiries on Draco's behalf. He has no reason any longer to threaten either of us."

Harry thought that Lucius would happily send him into oblivion just because he was a half-blood who could beat his son at Quidditch, but he didn't send that thought to Snape. "I still can't see any reason why we should risk going in person," he said. "If you think an owl might be intercepted, there are other ways. The Floo network."

"The Floo network is less secure than a private owl. If you have an invisibility cloak, that will serve us much better. We shall go to the Malfoys, and should a Ministry inquisitory hearing be underway, we shall leave again without being seen."

Harry was pretty sure the Ministry wasn't organized enough yet for hearings, but he also didn't want to encourage Snape. "What if things are exploding inside the house again?"

A shadow passed across Snape's features. "I was very weak, Potter. I did not dare interfere. This time I may be able to help Lucius."

Harry's irritation boiled over into anger. "Could you please call me Harry if you're going to call him Lucius? What is going on inside that house, anyway? We're not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what the danger is."

For some reason, Snape seemed to take this as an indication that Harry was willing to leave just as soon as he got an answer. Turning, he walked into the hallway, heading toward the stairs. "I will have to hope Regulus Black's robes haven't been eaten by moths," he said. "Otherwise a visit to my old house will become necessary sooner rather than later." Harry thought moths would have to fight off the doxies before getting a chance at the clothes, but he kept that thought to himself.

"We're not going to Spinner's End -- the Ministry has the place surrounded and warded," Harry reminded him, following. "Anyway, I think I can manage transfiguring clothes. But I'm not doing anything..." He sat down on the top step. "Until you tell me what Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were fighting about, and what it has to do with Draco, and what it has to do with either of us."

Hand still on the newel post of the landing, Snape turned and stared down at Harry, who emphasized his position by wrapping his arms around his legs.

Harry -- the voice inside his head said but Harry shook his head stubbornly.

"Out loud," he insisted, though he liked the way Snape said his name. There was a huffing noise overhead and he found himself being budged over to make room for Snape, who worked his larger frame beside Harry's at the top of the stairs.

"I do not know for certain," he said, holding up one hand when Harry started to sputter in protest. "You saw that I wasn't inside the house; I couldn't witness what was going on." This close, their legs wedged against each other, their faces were very near. "From what I did see -- from things Lucius let slip -- I believe Narcissa is not quite right since the events at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry remembered all too well that Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange had been sisters and Bellatrix was as not quite right as a person could get. "Is she sick or --" He couldn't think of a polite way to say _as crazy as her sister_, but Snape seemed to pick up on his hesitation.

"Nearly losing Draco may have been too much for her, combined with the events of the previous year. Many people she knew well are now dead, including the Crabbe boy." He slid his hands over his knees. "Having the Dark Lord for a house guest is not an easy situation even for a devoted follower, which Narcissa Malfoy was not; she never took the Dark Mark. And the year before that, she was in a state of anxiety waiting for Draco to complete the task with which he'd been charged."

The one Snape himself had been forced to complete. "Can't she get help?" Harry asked, remembering the urgent undertone she had used when she'd been tasked with assuring that Harry Potter was dead when he'd placed himself in the path of the Killing Curse. He'd been grateful to her then for aiding him, though he'd known she'd only done it for her son. "Of anyone in that family, she's the one who's probably in the best position to convince the Healers that she was under Imperius. And it isn't as though the Malfoys are on the dole."

"They are a proud family," said Snape, lifting his chin a bit. "As much as I know, I have guessed. Lucius has not confided in me, though I believe I am his oldest surviving friend."

Shaking his head in confusion, Harry let his own hands slide over his legs, turning his head so he could look up at Snape. "But Draco is fine. Well, as fine as he gets. He survived."

For a moment Harry thought he'd said something horrible. Snape's face had gone white. He was no longer looking at Harry but down the stairs to the empty foyer below. "Yes," he said slowly, "I should have realized when you told me about the horcruxes. Draco _did_ survive."

Harry wasn't sure what he would do if Snape too had gone mad. "What --" he began.

Snape's head jerked back and his eyes bored into Harry's. "Narcissa would do anything to keep Draco alive. She may be trying to persuade Draco to make a horcrux, to ensure that he will indeed survive, no matter what."

"Fuck," Harry said feelingly. "And Malfoy --"

"Has, I believe, been trying to stop her," Snape finished. They appraised each other grimly. Then Snape cast his gaze from side to side. "I noticed her acting strangely before my own recuperation, but that was before I knew about the horcruxes. As his host, Narcissa would have had ample time to ferret the secret of their making from the Dark Lord. He is -- was -- extremely susceptible to flattery of his skills."

"But Draco would have to commit murder," Harry yelped, thinking of how close Draco had come a few times already. He had no liking for the other boy but at least Draco hadn't yet split his soul.

Snape was looking a bit alarmed. "Not just any murder," he said, his voice gone low. "A significant murder. I must warn Lucius."

"You don't think Draco would kill his own father, do you?" Harry asked, remembering all the shouting the night they'd made their escape. He also remembered a long-ago visit to purchase robes when he had been confronted by Narcissa Malfoy's angry face after he had reminded her that her husband was in prison. Taking a breath, he turned to face Snape. "You know the Malfoys better than I do, but I never had the sense that Narcissa would be keen to sacrifice her husband even to save her son. But I can think of another person who's played a significant role in Draco's life, who until recently was right there on his family's property."

Snape's narrow lips pressed together. "Draco would not attempt to kill me. He owes me his life."

"You're assuming that he's thinking rationally. It doesn't sound like his mother is." When Snape did not reply, Harry knew that he'd scored a point. "In your memories I heard you tell Dumbledore that you thought Draco blamed you for usurping his father's place at the Dark Lord's side. He may not have forgiven you, even if he knows now that you were just playing a role. Doesn't it seem strange to you that your good friend Lucius Malfoy put you in a cold stone room in the ground instead of inside his house? Maybe it wasn't only the Ministry he was trying to keep away from you. He did keep insisting that Draco should be left out of whatever we were doing -- he made you a poultice himself rather than ask Draco."

"Even so, Narcissa owes me a debt as great as Draco's. Moreover, she has seen me duel." Pride surfaced momentarily in Snape's otherwise concerned voice. "She would know that sending Draco to fight me might very well mean sending him to his death."

"But she would also know you don't have your wand. Think about it -- it makes sense. I couldn't figure out why Malfoy agreed to let me see you when your location was the only thing he had to bargain. He led me right to you, and he left us alone for a long time, and he let us leave without a fight. He didn't even try to come after us. Why would he have done that unless it was you, and not himself, who was in danger?"

Snape was not looking at Harry, but off in the distance. "I did wonder why Lucius didn't bring Draco to see me while I was recovering. You were correct that, as a better Potions student than you ever were, he would have been more helpful in brewing remedies."

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, but he wasn't really insulted. Draco _had_ been a good student; Harry had seen how dangerous he could be. "Anyway, even if I'm wrong about all of this, it would be foolish for you to take the risk of visiting the Malfoys."

"Yet it should be even more obvious," said Snape in his teaching voice, "that I must have a wand. At once."

Sighing, Harry nodded. "You may trust Lucius Malfoy, but I don't. I told Hermione everything that he told me...I told her that he said you were alive. And I had to tell her why I haven't been around much. The Weasleys think I'm in mourning for Lupin." A muscle in Snape's jaw twitched, but he did not speak. "I'm going to ask Hermione to get you a wand."

"That goody-two-shoes..."

"...set your cloak on fire as a first-year," Harry reminded Snape. "She isn't such a goody-two-shoes. I learned some things about her while we were camping together." That made Snape's eyebrows shoot up, a smirk crossing his face, and Harry felt his face turning red. "Not those kinds of things!"

"Not at all?" Snape's smirk had not gone away.

"Not at all! It was never like that. She's like a sister to me."

"And Weasley's sister?" Snape's voice was quiet, but there was bite to the question.

"Like a sister to me, too," Harry said uncomfortably. "I tried -- look, can we get back to the wand? If you tell me what kind of wood, or core, maybe she can get exactly what you need."

"Would Hermione Granger take advantage of the Weasleys and their positions in the Ministry, and recover my own wand, or would that violate her personal code of honor?" Snape asked.

Harry had a vivid flash of Hermione Polyjuiced to look like Bellatrix LeStrange and grinned. "She might." Snape's brow was climbing into his hairline. "If it was the only way to keep you safe. She broke into Gringott's with me, after all."

"Broke...into...Gringott's..." Snape said slowly as though Harry had suggested they do it right now.

Harry realized that there were gaps in both their time lines of how events had unfolded that they would eventually have to fill in. Briefly he filled Snape in on their desperate break-in to recover the horcrux in the LeStrange vault. By the time he had finished, he didn't think Snape would call Hermione a goody-two-shoes ever again.

"I suggest we contact her as soon as possible," Snape suggested, getting to his feet. Harry wedged into the balustrade, held out a hand without thinking to be helped up. Snape took it and helped haul Harry upright and it didn't feel weird until Harry realized he didn't mind having his hand in Snape's. He dropped his hand and looked away before Snape could read anything in his eyes.

"Let's call her via the Floo," Harry said, heading back downstairs. Snape followed him over to the fireplace in the study. "She's staying at the Burrow," he explained, grabbing the pot of Floo powder on the mantel. He suspected a smirk dangling over his head and he was right. "Oh come on, not with Mrs. Weasley right there." He conjured a fire then threw some of the glittering powder into it.

"Harry!" They'd gotten Mrs. Weasley, who seemed pleased to see Harry. Snape stood out of sight while Harry asked if Hermione was available. "Oh, of course," she said, "always underfoot with a book." Her glowing face turned to the side, calling out before she turned back. "Wouldn't you like to talk to Ginny?" she asked, smiling benignly.

"Not right now, thank you," Harry said, uncomfortably aware of Snape's scrutiny. "I really need to talk to Hermione."

It was Hermione who appeared just then, looking concerned. "How are you, Harry? I haven't heard anything since --" She made a gesture like antlers, pantomiming Harry's patronus. "You know."

"Fine," Harry said, realizing that Mrs. Weasley was probably still in the vicinity. "Could you drop round sometime? We need, er, I need to talk to you."

Hermione had not missed the slip. She looked over her shoulder and, nodding decisively, came through the Floo.

Harry had got out of the way just in time, but Hermione had always been more graceful at Flooing than Harry had and stepped over him. She gasped when she caught sight of Snape, who had stepped away from the side of the fireplace.

"Professor!" She looked genuinely pleased to see him. While they settled into chairs in the study, Harry started filling her in on what had been going on. Hermione was used to his usual story-telling style and didn't interrupt, though she did cast furtive glances at Snape every now and then. When he got to their theory about what Narcissa was up to, Hermione looked horrified.

"So, you want me to --" She shook her head, looking between them. "To break into the Ministry --"

"It isn't like you haven't done it before," put in Harry.

"And steal the professor's wand?" she continued, as though Harry hadn't spoken.

"Technically speaking, it isn't stealing," Harry pointed out. Really, this had sounded so much more reasonable at the top of the stairs.

She leaned forward, propping her head on her hand. "You know I'm getting ready to go to Australia," she said.

Frowning Harry glanced at Snape, who had had very few words to say since Hermione arrived. "Er, no, I didn't, actually."

"To bring my parents back. I've got to take off the memory charm and hope they remember me."

Harry was stricken. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have --" he began, feeling like the worst friend in the world.

"Yes, you must, Miss Granger," said Snape, his face showing none of the misery Harry's did. He cleared his throat. "There are, of course, potions that can help that process."

"Do they work on Muggles?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

Snape shrugged. "Of course." He turned back to Hermione. "I can brew them for you if you like," he said, scooting his chair back.

"Wait," Hermione said, huffing into her hand before straightening. "I'll do it," she went on. Snape went still, his expression equal parts surprise and admiration. "But not until I get my parents. If I get caught and arrested in the Ministry, months or years could pass. Memory charms are harder to reverse the more time passes." Harry glanced at Snape, who nodded agreement. "I'm not going to risk my parents never remembering who I am."

"Then the solution is obvious," Harry said. "You go to the Ministry and get Snape's wand. I'll go to Australia to get your parents."

"Are you mad?" Hermione and Snape asked practically at the same time.

Harry looked from one to the other. "It makes sense. In fact..." He took a breath. "I think Snape should come with me. It's much less likely that anyone would recognize him in Australia. And if there's a problem with the memory charm, he'd be more useful than either of us in reversing it."

_This is a terrible idea_, said Snape's voice in Harry's head. Aloud he said, "And who's going to keep an eye on the Malfoys?"

"If Hermione can make it look like one of them stole the wand, the Ministry will do it for us." Harry glanced at Hermione. "Lucius was Snape's friend. It wouldn't be surprising that he'd be interested in Snape's wand -- Kingsley would probably consider him the most likely suspect anyway. With any more scrutiny on the family, it would be difficult for Narcissa to cause trouble."

"Or else she might panic and do something very foolish. Or Draco might." Snape's expression was grim. "I think it best if we leave the Malfoys out of it and conduct our business as quickly as possible."

"That's just what I've been saying! You need your wand back, and Hermione needs her parents back. Since she can't do both at the same time, if you want her to get your wand, getting her parents is the least we can do."

"I'd wanted to be there when they got their memories back," said Hermione in a small voice. "But I also thought that if something went wrong, and they didn't remember me...I didn't know what I'd do." Harry stood up at once and slid over beside Hermione on the sofa, patting her arm. Her lower lip was trembling but she held herself together.

"They know me," he said while she collected herself. "I met them in Diagon Alley a few times, remember?" He kept talking and she nodded, finally looking over at him gratefully. "We'll bring them back. I'm sure they'll be so happy to see you." She patted his hand and he slid his hand away.

"All right, I suppose this makes the most sense," she said, straightening up and giving Harry another grateful look before including Snape in her gaze. "I want to help."

"I'll make sure he stays out of trouble," Snape said with such seriousness that Hermione burst out laughing. Even Harry joined in, spotting the twitching at the corner's of Snape's mouth that meant he was trying not to look amused.

She got to her feet, followed quickly by both Snape and Harry. She went over to the desk and pulled out a quill and parchment, writing something down. Folding up the parchment, she handed it to Harry. "Here's where they are, or at least where they should be."

"I'll let you know as soon as we find them," he said, tucking the address into his jeans pocket. She gave his cheek a quick peck, and looked like she wanted to do the same with Snape, who must have realized it at the same time, and took a step backwards.

"If I get arrested for stealing Ministry property, I'll want you for a character witness," she said, stepping over to the fireplace.

When she had gone, Harry turned to Snape. "You'll go with me?" he asked, suddenly anxious. "I sort of volunteered you."

"Who else will look after you?" replied Snape. The way he said it made something flutter in Harry's chest. "I shudder to think what Miss Granger would do if she retrieved my wand, only to learn that you had bungled things with her parents."

That sounded more like the Snape whom Harry knew. "It wouldn't be your fault if I bungled things," he sighed.

"She only agreed to help me because you asked her to do it." Snape's gaze fixed on Harry. "Yet you only care for her like a sister?"

"Only like a sister. Ever." For some reason, perhaps because Snape had asked earlier, Harry felt compelled to elaborate. "Ginny Weasley, too -- I tried dating her for a bit, but it was a bad idea. I was trying to keep my mind off other things."

He meant Voldemort and the horcruxes and the fact that Ron had been upset with him -- next to Hermione, whose parents Harry scarcely knew, the Weasleys were the closest thing that Harry had to a family. But Snape was looking at him with a speculative expression that made Harry's chest feel odd again, and Harry realized that _other things_ might have conveyed an entirely different meaning.

"You'll need to create a Portkey for us since we can't Apparate to Australia," Snape was saying, "I'll walk you through the charm."

Perhaps they should have kept Hermione around a bit longer, since Harry knew that particular charm was notoriously complicated. He took out the parchment and unfolded it, leaning in to share the address with Snape. "Adelaide," he read, trying to remember his geography and failing. "Well, I don't have to know where it is exactly to make a Portkey to get there, do I?"

One of the long strands of Snape's hair had fallen over Harry's shoulder. He brushed it back, tilting his face to meet Harry's. "We can travel in stages," he said, making a frustrated noise. "I could do it easily with my wand."

"Is Master needing a wand?" came a gravelly voice from the doorway.

They both started, and turned to see Kreacher lingering just inside the study. Since Snape had moved in, the house-elf had taken to keeping mostly to the kitchens, though Harry had heard him rattling around on the floor above theirs too, singing softly to himself. "I have a wand, Kreacher," Harry said gently, "but Master Snape, er, lost his. Why?"

Kreacher edged into the room, looking uncertainly at Snape. "The half-blood is staying in Master Regulus's room?"

_Let me_, Harry thought at Snape, hoping he'd watched Hermione deal with the nearly demented elf closely enough. "Master Snape is a guest here, Kreacher. He's been here before, remember? While Master Sirius was alive."

Stubbornly Kreacher shook his head. "The half-blood never slept here then, or ate any of Kreacher's cooking."

"His name is Snape, Kreacher," Harry said, trying to sound stern without being mean. "Or Severus, if you like."

Kreacher looked like he was considering this, and Harry hoped it was all right. He had never called Snape by his first name. Of course he'd never called him "the half-blood" either, so he supposed he was ahead of the game.

_Ask him why he's asking about the wand_, came Snape's voice clearly in his head. Even though they hadn't been using this method to communicate lately, the ability had not faded with time.

"Why did you ask if I needed a wand?" Harry asked, giving Snape what he hoped was a quelling look.

"Master Regulus had a wand, a fine wand," Kreacher replied, lifting his gnarled old chin proudly.

Harry tried not to look too eager, stepping closer and kneeling so he could look directly at Kreacher. "Where is it now, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher has not been in Master Regulus's room to clean it since the half-blood moved in," Kreacher said, looking torn. Privately Harry thought he hadn't cleaned it much, or anything in the house much since Mrs. Weasley had spent the summer scouring it. Trying not to look as impatient as he felt, Harry sidled another glance at the gratifyingly silent Snape, and Kreacher let out a rheumy noise. "Kreacher hid it from the mudbloods and blood traitors who were throwing out my mistress's things." He looked stubbornly at Harry as if daring him to refute this.

"Master Snape only needs it for a little while, Kreacher," Harry said coaxingly. "He was a Slytherin, just like Master Regulus."

Kreacher's hands tugged at the waist of his thankfully no longer filthy tea towel. "Kreacher hid it in Master Regulus's old school trunk."

Exhaling, Harry got to his feet. "Thank you, Kreacher," he said as Snape joined him. Together they rushed up the stairs and into the room across from Harry's. Harry hadn't spent enough time in there to be familiar with the layout but Snape went straight to the bed, lifting the blankets and dragging out the battered trunk. Harry gave a whoop and knelt down on the floor beside Snape.

"It's locked," Snape said, tugging on the clasp.

Pulling out his wand, Harry tried a basic unlocking spell, grinning when the lock gave a quiet 'snick' and loosened in Snape's fingers. The top came open in a cloud of dust, proving Harry's theory that Kreacher was more interested in leaving everything in the former Black house undisturbed, including the dirt. Waving his hand to clear the dust, Snape leaned over the trunk. On the top were several sets of neatly folded robes, thankfully doxy-free. Snape rummaged beneath them and Harry heard the sound of clanking on the bottom of the trunk. His fingers closed around something and he pulled it out with a flourish.   
"Er --" Harry said, staring. It was a test tube. Snape scowled and dove back under the robes. This time his fingers scrabbled around the corner and Harry could see his hand moving along the bottom before he pulled a definitely more wand-shaped object.   
Harry whooped again and even Snape looked pleased. He gave the wand and experimental flick, sending out a cascade of green and gold sparks. He waved it again and a yellow bird zoomed out, circling their heads while Harry watched, laughing at the frantic chirping it made as it fluttered out of the room.

_We did it!_ he thought happily, turning to repeat the words aloud when he realized how close they were on the dusty floor, and how he seemed to be leaning into Snape's body.

_Harry._

_Severus._ Neither one moved, their faces so close that Harry could see smudges of dust along one cheek.

Snape looked away first, his expression troubled as he closed the lid of the trunk. It sent up another cloud of dust, which gave Harry a coughing fit. "We should get packed."

Harry was flushed from coughing, still trying to catch his breath. "I'll, um, get my things," he said, stumbling to his feet and retreating across the hall to his room. His heart was racing, which he knew perfectly well was not from choking on the dust, and he didn't dare stay so close to Snape when they'd been reading each other's minds.

It wasn't as if he didn't have a pretty good idea why he'd never wanted to date Hermione, and why he couldn't make things work with Ginny, and why he'd had such mixed feelings about going out with Cho. Severus might even have known some of that from Occlumency lessons...wait, Harry was not going to start thinking of him as _Severus_!

"Yes?" Snape's head popped in the doorway.

"What?" asked Harry defensively, realizing that he was standing in the middle of his room and hadn't given a single thought to packing, let alone started to do it.

"You called me?"

"No I didn't!" Except that obviously he had. "Oh. I didn't mean to." His mind raced. "I was just thinking..." Fuck! "The Portkey! Isn't it illegal to make one without Ministry authorization?"

It had been a stupid thing to say, and indeed, Snape was looking at him as if he'd said something even more imbecilic than usual. "Yes," Snape said impatiently. "I'm afraid it is illegal to make a Portkey without permission. Just as it is illegal to remove a confiscated wand from the Ministry, and to harbor a wanted fugitive in one's home. Is this going to pose difficulty for you?"

"No," Harry replied sheepishly. "Sorry. Like I said, I didn't mean to call you. I just got nervous about it."

"About the Portkey," Snape said slowly, looking at Harry very oddly.

"Yes, about the Portkey! And I don't know what the weather is in Australia so I don't know what to pack!" Turning his back on Snape, Harry tugged open a drawer and started yanking out clothing at random. Unfortunately, he'd picked the drawer with his underwear.

"When it is summer here, it is winter there, though I believe Adelaide's winters are generally mild." Snape was still speaking as though he thought Harry must be very stupid. "A swimsuit won't be necessary. Bring a cloak."

With that, Snape whirled and went back into Regulus's room, leaving Harry blushing furiously. Of course he'd already known that a Portkey could be -- and often was -- created without Ministry approval, even though Lupin had once said it was more than his life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey. Dumbledore had made one right in front of Cornelius Fudge to send Harry back to Hogwarts, in spite of Fudge's spluttering, and there didn't seem to have been any horrible consequences. Undoubtedly Snape knew that that wasn't really what had been bothering Harry, but at least he hadn't pressed.

Distractedly Harry tossed his clothes into a pile, shoving them together in a messy bundle. Snape was going to think he was as dreadful at packing as he'd been at Potions. When he'd finished, he crossed the hall and tapped on the door, though Snape had left it open. "I was wondering, what are we going to use as the Portkey?"

"It should be something that a Muggle traveler might be carrying, but not anything that anyone else would want to touch." Snape glanced around the room. "I don't suppose you have a tatty stuffed bear?"

"I'm not eleven any more," retorted Harry, refraining from mentioning that he hadn't had a stuffed bear then, either. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never gave him gifts that weren't used school supplies or second-hand clothes.

"Some old piece of clothing, then," Snape decided, rummaging through Regulus's belongings.

"How about this?" Harry asked, tugging at the gaudy S-shaped tag on Regulus's trunk. It had a flap covering the childish scrawl of Regulus's name inside. Snape turned, squatting down at peering at it, nodding in agreement.

"I think Reg would approve," he said, unbuckling the clasp. He straightened. "You would prefer that I perform the spell?"

Harry exhaled in relief. "Very much. I don't want us to end up in the middle of the ocean."

Snape was already taking out the borrowed wand. He gave it a warm-up flick, sending out a shower of silver sparks, before hefting the luggage tag in his palm. He stopped and jerked his head at Harry. "Better stand aside in case this wand reacts adversely to such a powerful spell."

"What?" Harry said frowning. "Adversely how?" He came around to stand beside Snape. _You're trying to protect me!_

_Of course I am._ Snape aimed the wand and cast the spell wordlessly. The tag glowed blue briefly in Snape's palm, and he nodded in satisfaction.

"What if the wand balked, like mine did?" Harry protested. "What if something had exploded?"

"Nothing did," Snape said with exaggerated calmness. He looked pointedly at Harry's untidy bundle of clothing. "Are you ready?"

He still wasn't satisfied at Snape's lack of concern for the danger, but nodded, toeing the bundle he'd thrown together. Snape made a face at it, looking over to his own neatly folded pile of borrowed clothing on the bed. He aimed the wand at the trunk and transfigured it into a serviceable briefcase. "There, that will make us seem a bit more respectable," he said, hoisting it onto the bed.

Adding his own clothes, Harry left the cloak on top as if to prove that he had a bit of sense, despite everything else to the contrary. Everything fit inside, so Harry assumed Snape had added a charm to increase the space within. He'd left the Portkey beside it on the bed, closing up the briefcase and latching it before reaching for the charmed luggage tag.

"We have to take it at the same time," Snape said, holding it in one hand, the briefcase in the other.

_Australia?_ Harry thought, taking the luggage tag.

The Portkey activated with the echo of Snape's answering, _Australia_, as the sensation of being jerked inside out overtook them both.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry managed to keep hold of the Portkey, though it must have been charmed since he felt like he was tumbling end over end. He could sense Snape beside him, fingers brushing his own, but couldn't see anything in the rush of wind against his face. Then something flew up at him, and Harry realized it was the ground and he knew they were going to crash. Only the wind seemed to gather them up and instead of crashing, set them on their feet as the world reformed around them.

The Portkey, now deactivated, dropped to the grass. Snape bent over to pick it up, and Harry was gratified to note that he looked a bit green.

"Intact?" Snape asked, pocketing the luggage tag that was now just a luggage tag.

"I think so, yeah," Harry answered, looking around. It was indeed colder than England had been, but not frigid, and getting dark. They were in a well-landscaped area, with paths leading through a winter garden where elegant old-fashioned lamps had just started to come on. "Where are we?"

"Thorngrove Manor," Snape said, squinting into the gloom ahead. "A hotel, but one friendly to wizards." He started down the path then stopped. "I --" He looked at Harry, mouth still open.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked in alarm, hurrying to his side. "Is it your neck? God, we should have thought of that, you're still too weak --"

"No, it has nothing to do with the state of my health," Snape said, looking at once both sheepish and perplexed. "I haven't any money."

Harry nearly slumped in relief. He patted his pocket. "I have plenty, Muggle and wizard," he said, grateful for once to be the one to have thought of something first. The look on Snape's face was worth it.

"I may have underestimated you, Potter," he said, hefting the briefcase.

"Harry, remember?" he said, feeling that quite possibly, this was going to work.

The hotel was stunning. Though it wasn't quite as impressive from the outside as the looming grandeur of Hogwarts, Harry thought that even Lucius Malfoy might have been envious. Baroque towers and turrets rose above wrought-iron gates surrounded by gardens lush with color despite the chilly weather. In the distance Harry thought he could smell the sea. "This is very..." he began, and stopped. He'd been thinking of saying _romantic_. "It looks very elegant," he said instead.

"My primary concern was privacy," Snape reminded him. "This hotel boasts that visitors may never encounter another guest. And the staff will discreetly ignore the use of magic within the rooms."

Fortunately, Harry had brought a lot of money, because the hotel was as expensive as its amenities suggested. But by the time they had been shown to their rooms -- an enormous suite linked together by a living room with stained glass windows and an antique grand piano -- Harry had already decided that it was worth it. There was a private entrance from one of the garden paths, an observation balcony that overlooked the broad flowering lanes beyond, a small root cellar, and a fireplace with a cast-iron cauldron that would be perfect for brewing potions. All meals, they were told, would be served en suite.

Snape took the room with the smaller bed and gabled roof, leaving the enormous master bedroom to Harry. The four-poster bed was the largest he had ever seen, hung with tapestries and carved ornately with oak leaves and squirrels. He was still staring at it, somewhat intimidated, when Snape came in with the briefcase holding his clothes.

"I required the room with the fireplace," Snape said. "I wish to leave the Jobberknoll feathers brewing with the hawthorn overnight."

"I'm not complaining," Harry said. "This room is twice as big. We could have shared a room this size."

"I doubt you would wish to share a bed, or a closet." Snape handed him the briefcase. "While you are unpacking, I will call down for dinner."

Back in London, they hadn't even had breakfast, but it was many hours later in Adelaide. Harry wasn't sure what the local time was. He glanced at the clock on the mantel which looked like it belonged in a museum. He suspected he and Snape were going to have a hard time falling asleep on local time, then would probably be very tired the next day, when they went to find Hermione's parents. "What are we eating?" he asked.

"The seafood is reputed to be very good, as are the emu sausages," Snape told him.

Harry made a face. "No emu, thanks. Do they have ordinary eggs?"

"I will inquire," said Snape, who then swooped out of the room, leaving Harry to deal with the messy pile of clothes he'd brought. It was a good thing Snape wasn't planning for them to visit the dining room, because Harry hadn't brought anything appropriate to wear in a place so opulent. He could hear Snape descending the steps to the small cellar, undoubtedly to begin work on the potion he intended to use on Wendell and Monica Wilkins -- the names Hermione had given her parents in hiding -- to help restore their memories.

The seafood turned out to be every bit as good as its reputation. So were the eggs, gathered fresh from the free-range hens living in Thorngrove Manor's small farm, which also included an organic herb garden. Snape had asked for side orders of rosemary and ginseng, both of which he intended not to eat but to brew with the Jobberknoll feathers he had packed. Between courses, which were served in the living room by two hotel staff members, he kept slipping away to check on the cauldron bubbling in his fireplace.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" asked Harry when they had finished a sticky toffee pudding topped by the best meringue Harry had ever tasted. "Are we going to pretend to have dentist appointments?"

"I thought it would be easier to approach the Grangers after they had finished seeing their patients for the day -- in theory, fewer explanations will be necessary," Snape replied.

That would also give Hermione another full day to get Snape's wand, though Snape seemed to be doing fine with Regulus Black's. He squatted by the cauldron over the fireplace in his bedroom, muttering as he added one ingredient after another to the potion. "Is there anything you want me to do?" asked Harry, watching.

"You could chop those roots," Snape told him, gesturing at the ginseng. Nodding, Harry took one of the hotel's heavy silver knives and set it to work. He sat down on Snape's bed, breathing in the strange aroma from the cauldron. It was a bit like being back in the Malfoys' secret room, with Harry chopping and trying to pay attention. At least this potion didn't seem as complicated as the one he'd made to help heal Snape, and no one had mentioned any blood.

Once the ginseng had been reduced to perfectly shredded lengths, Harry started on the rosemary, obliquely watching Snape bending over the fire. What had that remark meant about sharing a bed, he wondered. This one was every bit as comfortable as the one in his room, and while Snape headed down to the cellar, Harry finished with the small batch of rosemary and stretched out. He had no idea what time it was back home, only that the toll of the day -- the meeting with Hermione, finding the wand, and the hastily planned trip to Australia -- was beginning to catch up with him. He yawned, thinking a few moments with his eyes closed wouldn't hurt.

It was still dark when he opened his eyes again, but it didn't feel like only a few moments had passed. The room, which had been lit by an elegant Tiffany-style lamp before he'd stretched out, was now dark, save for the soft glow from the fireplace. He turned his head to see if there was a clock beside the bed, only to realize the numbers were fuzzy. Where had his glasses got to? He lifted one hand, feeling it heavy with sleep, and realized that his glasses rested, neatly folded, on the nightstand.

Oh God, he hoped Snape wasn't angry with him. All at once Harry became aware that the other half of the bed was occupied. Snape was in the bed beside him.

Slowly Harry turned so that he was flat on his back, glancing over at the mound under the covers. Snape's hair fanned out over the pillow, and some had spilled over onto Harry's pillow. Harry tried to think, his brain still fuzzy with sleep. Should he get up and go back to his own bed? Here in the darkness, he could admit that wasn't really what he wanted. Something had changed for him when he'd realized all that Snape had been through, all that he'd meant to Harry when Harry had been too busy hating him to realize the sacrifices Snape -- Severus -- had made.

He wondered what Snape would do if he rolled over and pressed himself against his back, wondered if he'd protest if Harry slid his arm around his waist. The idea was so enticing that Harry groaned slightly and wriggled, still atop the bedspread, though someone -- oh God, it had to have been Snape -- had spread a spare blanket over him.

Before he could come to any decision or even think about what this meant, the body beside his shifted. Snape rolled over till he was flat on this back. Any hope that Snape was still asleep vanished when Harry glanced over and saw eyes gleaming softly in the dark.

_I'm sorry_, Harry thought, because he hoped Snape hadn't heard any of his other thoughts.

Snape rolled over, facing Harry, and propped his head up on his hand. "Sorry you are, however unwittingly, sharing my bed, or sorry you woke me up?" he said, voice languid from sleep.

"I don't know," Harry said, then realized how that sounded, "I mean, sorry I woke you up and sorry I fell asleep, but not --" He pressed his lips together, aware that he was probably making things worse. "Not sorry that we're...that I'm..." Fuck, he was _definitely_ making things worse. "Not that I'm here," he said firmly, "with you. In bed."  
Snape was silent for so long that Harry thought he must not have made himself clear. He took a deep breath and added, "I wanted this. Before tonight, I mean. To see what it would be like." Though their faces were quite close together, he couldn't read Snape's expression in the dim room without his glasses. "Are _you_ sorry?" he asked.

"I didn't shove you out," Snape muttered. "Though perhaps that was unwise. I might remind you that not many weeks ago, you wanted me dead. I believe you wished to perform the deed yourself."

"A lot has happened since then." Harry turned onto his side so he could look right at Snape, even though he still couldn't see clearly. "You saved my life. And everyone else's."

"Ah. This is about your exaggerated sense of my heroics."

"It has nothing to do with that. Don't you think I know what it's like to have people want you to be some inflated hero who doesn't exist?" He waited for Snape's nod. "When I thought I wanted you dead, I didn't know you at all. Now that I've seen your memories..."

Abruptly Harry had a horrible thought. It was so obvious that he didn't know why it had taken him so long to figure out, except that he hadn't wanted to think about it. "Oh fuck," he said, flopping back on the firm mattress. "You were in love with my mum, weren't you."

He expected even more unpleasantness -- now Snape would ridicule him, or, worse, treat him as pitiable -- but Snape only sighed and shook his head. "I loved her like a sister," he said, ironically, but without the mocking tone that Harry had heard from him so many times. "As you surely guessed. Potter, why would you confess to me repeatedly your lack of interest in women unless you suspected that I was queer?"

"I didn't! That's not...you are?" This was the best news Harry had heard since Malfoy had convinced him that Snape was alive.

"I assure you that I am not the only gay wizard you've met, so there is no need 'to see what it would be like' with me." Now Snape sounded defensive.

"That wasn't what I meant. I wanted to see what it would be like with _you_, not some random gay wizard."

"Then allow me to satisfy your curiosity." For a moment Harry couldn't breathe, but Snape went on, "I'm too old for you. I have no recent experience to boast about. For that matter, I have little experience of note at all. I haven't much patience with..."

Harry leaned over and kissed him. It wasn't a very impressive kiss -- without his glasses, he could only aim in the general direction of Snape's mouth, which he bumped too hard, crushing his lips against his teeth. Though it did not have the longed-for effect of making Snape moan and melt against him, it did, at least, make Snape stop protesting.

"I don't care," Harry breathed. "You probably think I'm too young for you. I don't have any experience with men. I still want this with you."

Snape inhaled sharply. "Potter --"

_It's Harry._ He kissed Snape -- Severus -- again, more slowly this time, and noticed that even though Snape -- _Severus_ \-- wasn't exactly kissing back, he wasn't exactly resisting, either.

_Harry. Listen to me._ Aloud Severus said, "We shared a blood bond. I did some research in the Black family library. What we feel may be no more than an effect of the blood magic."

"Then you feel it too." This revelation was promising enough for Harry to press up against Severus as he kissed him. This time Severus definitely kissed back, tilting his head so that their mouths fit together, lips lingering against each other's. "I can't blame it on blood magic. I couldn't stop thinking about you even when I thought you were dead."

"Sharing memories can create a false sense of intimacy as well." Severus sounded breathless.

"There's nothing false about this." It was probably against Ministry regulations -- or at least bad manners -- to thrust one's groin against one's former professor to demonstrate that one had an erection, but Harry finally succeeded in making Severus groan. _You still haven't shoved me out of bed_, he thought, diving into the next kiss, finding Severus's tongue waiting for him.

_If you are foolish enough to offer, I won't be foolish enough to refuse._

_Does that mean you want me?_ Twisting his hips, Harry managed to insinuate a knee between Severus's legs, pushing closer with his thigh until he felt the hard bulge beneath Severus's trousers. _Oh_ \-- that was rather intimidating as well as arousing. He moaned helplessly.

"No experience with men?" asked Severus, sliding a hand around Harry's bum and squeezing. Harry yelped softly. "What, exactly, were you hoping for?"

_Make me come!_ Oh fuck, that had mostly been Harry's cock talking, but Severus must have heard it, because he snickered softly. "I mean -- if you want -- I'll try to do the same."

"I suppose we had better take this slowly," Severus said. And lowered his head to kiss Harry. It was nothing like kissing Cho or Ginny...no gauzy sense of sunny days passing, no numbing oblivion like firewhisky, but hard and hungry and real. And the creature that lived in Harry's chest, which sought normalcy, popularity, all the things Harry thought he was supposed to want, had been supplanted by the creature in Harry's pants.

His toes scrabbled against Severus's ankles and he realized Severus must have taken off his shoes and socks as well. The idea that Severus had patiently undressed him while he slept, even partially, was incredibly arousing, not that Harry needed more urging in that department. Severus's feet were bare as well, rubbing against Harry's. "Slowly, right," Harry replied, trying to remember exactly what that word meant since his mind was still processing the feel of so much Severus pressing against him.

One hand wiggled beneath his shirt and Harry arched into the fingers spreading over his chest. "Slowly," Severus said, with that breathless catch in his voice before capturing Harry's mouth again. This kiss was softer but no less incendiary. Severus pushed him back onto the pillow but didn't leave him bereft, swinging one leg over Harry's so that he was all but lying on top of him. It felt so wickedly delicious -- he had never done this much with Ginny despite her encouragement -- that Harry immediately craved more. He slid his arms around Severus's neck, dragging him closer. His legs spread and clung, bringing their cocks in much happier proximity.

It seemed only right to rock against that answering hardness, only Harry didn't want to do _that_ slowly at all. The hand under his shirt slid down, as Harry realized Severus was trying to drag it over his head. It helped distract him, a moment devoted to lifting and tugging and wondering if his rather thin chest would be found wanting. Then he heard the liquid heat of Severus's moan when he tossed the shirt over the side of the bed. His fingers lifted and stroked one cheek.

_I'm -- Skinny. Awkward._ All the old insecurities rose to the surface.

_Perfect._

Blushing, Harry dropped his eyes. He reached to tug at Severus's shirt, untucking it from the trousers. He had seen Severus in a nightshirt while Severus was recovering, so he was surprised when Severus caught his wrist, stilling his hand.

"You may not wish to look. I'm quite scarred."

"I don't care. I can't really see without my glasses, anyway." Severus's fingers relaxed on his wrist, so Harry went back to undressing him. _Don't you think I've spent enough time looking at you to know what I want?_

The thought he received from Severus then was more like Legilimency than a message -- it was a glimpse of himself, in a classroom, smiling in an unguarded moment. Just as quickly, it disappeared.

"Wait -- you mean you didn't always think I was an arrogant little git?"

"I certainly did think you were an arrogant little git." _But that didn't stop me from looking._ As if to divert the chain of thought, Severus bent to kiss him again, letting Harry interrupt only to pull the half-unbuttoned shirt over his head. His mind was racing: all those times Professor Snape had glared at him, maybe it wasn't just loathing that Harry had seen in his eyes. He shivered, his fingers encountering wiry chest hair as his hands slid back down Severus's chest. Shifting to the side, Severus reached for the snap on Harry's jeans. "May I?"

_Oh fuck, yes._ He wondered why Severus was hesitating, then realized that he was still shivering. "Sorry. I'm not scared, I'm excited." Slowly, deliberately, Severus unfastened his jeans. "And afraid I'll come the second you touch me." It was easier to talk than to try to think. Harry was sure that if he imagined Severus's hand doing any more than it was doing now, tugging his jeans slowly down his hips, it would all be over.

"I recall that at your age, it doesn't take long to recover. Lift up." Severus sat up partway, grasping and pulling the cuffs of Harry's jeans, which slid down his legs and off, exposing his lower body to the cooler air of the room. Harry didn't think he could bear for Severus to pull off his pants the same way, he'd explode -- instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and shoved the pants down.

Severus drew in a long breath. _Yes, perfect._ He remained sitting as Harry tossed the pants aside, and Harry didn't need glasses to see that Severus was gazing hungrily at him.

"Do you want..." Harry began.

_Let me._ Almost absently, Severus took off his own trousers and pants, never taking his eyes off Harry, who whimpered as his unclothed cock twitched above his belly. Lying back, he felt Severus slide over him again, all hair and skin on skin this time, hand tracing its way up Harry's thigh.

_Oh God, I mean it -- I'll come!_

"Yes," Severus whispered aloud, mouth very close to Harry's ear, stirring Harry's hair with his warm breath as his fingers closed around the base of Harry's cock and stroked it. "Come for me." There were no coherent words Harry could form, not even in his mind. His hips bucked off the bed, mouth falling open as he groaned. Severus's cock was hard against his thigh, he could feel it, but he couldn't move his hand to touch it, not when he was thrusting and clutching at Severus's arm and shuddering and shouting --

The eruption spattered his chest and belly, making Severus's hand slick as it continued to stroke him, milking out spurt after spurt. By the time Harry had stopped writhing, he could feel semen dripping down his side onto the blanket. "Fuck," he panted, trembling, trying to unclench his fingers where they were digging into Severus's skin. "So good -- _perfect_."

His breath was stolen again as Severus's mouth came down on his. _I told you._ In his mind Harry caught a glimpse of himself crying out -- oh God, that must be what he looked like when he came. "Very good," Severus murmured, possibly the first real compliment he'd ever spoken to Harry.

"Sorry. I didn't even touch you," Harry panted sheepishly, fumbling in the direction of Severus's cock.

"Slowly," chided Severus, halting Harry's hand on his belly by turning slightly. "One thing at a time." Then he raised his own hand to his mouth, silhouetted in the faint light from the fireplace, and licked one of his fingers.

If Severus was trying to think of the one thing that would revive Harry's cock quickly, he'd succeeded. That tongue, that had flailed him endlessly in the classroom for the last seven years, was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, licking up Harry's come. He let his fingers drag down one thigh, luxuriating in the feel of hair that was thicker and coarser than his own. Severus's eyes closed slowly in pleasure so Harry urged his fingers to explore.

_Yes_ was the single languid thought. Harry felt like crowing back in triumph, knowing it was his hand touching Severus like this, his come coating that tongue. Instead he flashed a picture of what Severus looked like with his head tipped back just enough to expose his throat, his hair framing a raptly sensual expression as Harry flattened his hand and slid it up Severus's belly. Severus's eyes fluttered open in surprise but Harry leaned up to kiss the base of his throat and Severus sank back into the haze of pleasure.

He didn't really know what he was doing, just that touching Severus felt amazing, better even than touching himself, though he had some notion that Severus would tell him just to do what felt good when he did it to himself. One of Severus's hands was still touching his lips so Harry licked the other side, tasting just a bit of himself off Severus's skin. A sound came from between Severus's lips, part moan, partly like a cat's purr.

His own cock was hardening again, but Harry could ignore it more easily this time, concentrating instead on finding out what so much Severus felt like against his fingers and his mouth. He wanted very much to come again, but knew he could wait and see Severus -- no, _make_ Severus -- come too.

The eyes flickered open again as Harry's fingertips rounded one nipple. "You may do whatever you like," said Severus, the softness of his voice as intimate as a kiss.

_Everything_, Harry responded, then flushed at his own eagerness.

"That may require slightly more time than we have tonight," replied Severus, and the smirk that could be cold and cruel was sensual and arousing.

"I still want everything," Harry said as Severus bent his head for another kiss. "I don't care how long it takes." He was on his knees now, chest to chest with Severus as kiss flowed into kiss, Severus's mouth now strange with Harry's seed. Pricks brushed as Harry's hands slid down Severus's back and over the thin curve of his arse. Severus thrust against him with a wordless groan, moving along Harry's belly, stroking Harry's cock with his own.

For a few thrusts, Harry reveled in the satisfaction of knowing he'd brought Severus to this mindless state. Then Harry's own brain seemed to grow fuzzy as his hips responded, pressing back before Harry could even project the image of what Severus looked like doing this. At least they were close enough that he could see every detail -- the parted lips, damp from their frenzied kisses, the dew of sweat along the top of Severus's forehead, the desire in the depths of his gaze.

An image surged into his mind of their bodies wrapped around each other, thrusting with this same mindless rhythm. Since it could not be an image from life, surely it was something Severus had imagined -- had imagined with Harry.

"Yes, that too, want everything," he moaned, pressing his forehead against Severus's shoulder. He felt Severus nod, the now-damp tendrils of hair tickling his back. Harry realized the setting around the two figures was not any bed he was familiar with but a deserted beach, then it shifted with the swiftness of fantasy into a lush sun-dappled meadow, then swirled again till it was just the two of them, locked in frenzied coupling amid a boundless night sky.

Harry was dazed from the clarity of the images, surely not invented on the spot. With a groan, he fell back, pulling Severus on top of him, wrapping his legs around him, still thrusting against his belly. _Harder, fuck!_

_Harry!_ Severus's head lifted and he cried out in utter abandon. Harry felt the hot seed flowing between their bodies. His fingers dug into Severus's back, pushing himself through the rush of release before finding his own, shaking helplessly against Severus's chest.

For several minutes they lay barely moving, damp with exertion and pleasure, skin clinging together every place they touched. Harry could feel Severus's chest heaving as he panted, weight settling over Harry like a heavy blanket.

_Perfect_, he thought, receiving an answering wave of not-quite-articulate agreement from Severus. Aloud he said, "Is actual sex really better than that?"

Severus lifted his head to look at Harry. "I've never had sex with anyone with whom I could share thoughts." _Nor anyone I wanted as much as I want you._ Harry caught his breath -- he felt sure Severus hadn't meant to share that -- but Severus did not turn away. In fact, he was smirking. "I believe sex between us would be...unprecedented."

Letting his breath out in a soft moan, Harry allowed his legs to slide down to the mattress. "Fuck," he whimpered. "I want us to do it every way it can be done."

The answering nod and hum of approval made Harry shiver again. "Slowly," Severus repeated, with the look of a man trying not to gorge himself at the start of a feast when he knew even more delights would be forthcoming. Carefully, he shifted his weight off Harry, waiting for their skin to peel stickily apart before settling beside Harry and reaching for his wand. The spell he used to clean them was nonverbal, but Harry felt the magical tingling as it left him dry.

"Those things you showed me -- " Harry began. He was not sure of the etiquette of speaking about thoughts shared by someone who might not have been completely in control of how much he was revealing. Then again, Dumbledore had said Snape was a superior Occlumens...surely he could have hidden his thoughts if he had wished. "You wanted to do this before, too."

Severus glanced away, his cheeks flushed. "I had placed such thoughts firmly in the realm of idle fantasy."

"How come?"

Now Severus barked a laugh. "Until very recently, I was your second least-favorite person in the world. I was your teacher. You are young enough to be my son. And I wasn't certain that you preferred men."

Harry took a breath. He wanted to know, and at the same time he was afraid to learn, precisely what Snape had thought of him until recently as well. "During Occlumency lessons, you never saw anything that made you suspect?" he asked.

"One of the first things I learned while studying Occlumency is that people have many thoughts and wishes they have no intention of acting out. In many cases, that is all to the good." Harry supposed that that was true -- only someone as evil as Voldemort would try to fulfill a fantasy of living forever by becoming a serial killer. Severus continued, "You did not have what anyone might describe as an ordinary childhood. It was not surprising to see some...unconventional...interests in your mind." He glanced toward the clock, then the foot of the bed. "I should stir the ginkgo into the potion."

Harry watched him sit up, the outlines of his body blurring as he moved beyond where Harry could see clearly without his glasses. He lay back, letting his eyes shut, still feeling warm and very content. "I hope you don't mind if I'm glad you're unconventional, too," he said sleepily. He heard Severus moving around the room, smelled the fragrant steam as it coalesced over the fireplace and wafted over the bed.

"Just as long as you don't believe that I'm a pervert for wanting a lover half my age."

"I won't complain as long as I get to be the lover." The bed dipped beside him and Harry smiled without opening his eyes. "Unprecedented, eh?"

A possessive hand slid over his belly. Harry liked that. "Utterly," Severus replied.

Harry opened one eye. Severus looked very much awake, though his hair hung over one side of his face, nearly obscuring the hungry look in his eyes. Reaching up, Harry brushed the hair back, securing it behind one ear.

"I like looking at you," he explained, when Severus turned his face and pressed his cheek against Harry's hand.

"I'm not --" Severus's lips pressed together in self-censure.

_Perfect._

"Hardly," said Severus, keeping his head tilted as Harry stroked through his hair.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry said, deciding he would never convince Severus about his own attractiveness with words. Severus nodded. "Whose idea was it to let me know you were alive?"

He could tell the question had surprised Severus. The hand on his belly rubbed idly back and forth several times before he replied. "Mine," he admitted. "Lucius was resistant, but I convinced him that your Gryffindor nature would not allow harm to come to Draco if he presented his request on my behalf."

"You wanted me to know? Even if you never thought we'd --" He felt his cheeks warming. It was easier to think it but he wanted to be able to say the words. "We'd become lovers?"

Severus pressed a kiss into his palm. "Lucius brought me the _Prophet_ and showed me the things you said about me. I knew much of it was due to the memories we'd shared and your distorted impression of my heroism."

"Accurate version of the truth, you mean," Harry corrected him.

"You may have more difficulty convincing the Ministry."

Harry's fingers slid behind Severus's ear. "That doesn't mean I won't keep trying," he said, tugging Severus's face toward his. Their lips met as if they'd never stopped kissing. The hand on his belly slid up, tracing along his jawline. The firelight behind Severus danced along one shoulder as he bent to kiss Harry. Harry's own fingers cupped the back of Severus's head as he slid down into the crook of Harry's arm.

"I wanted you to know I was alive," he murmured as Harry's fingers combed through his hair. "It was irrational and reckless."

"Mmm probably," Harry said, eyes drifting closed again. He kissed the top of Severus's head. "But I'm glad you did."


	6. Chapter 6

When Harry awoke, light was creeping around the heavy curtains that covered the windows, though his entire body still felt sleepy and heavy...well, his entire body save one part. That part was prodding into the nearest warm object, which in this case happened to be Severus's belly. The room had grown cooler in the night as the fire burned down, and Severus was pressed up against Harry, one arm wrapped over Harry's hip.

If there was a more erotic sight than a naked Severus with his lank hair covering his face, Harry didn't know what it was. But he also didn't know what would happen, now that it was daylight and maybe Severus would be thinking more clearly. Probably someone with more experience would have had a better idea whether the fact that Severus had let him stay in bed all night meant that Harry was welcome to kiss him awake, but if there were manners governing proper behavior the morning after coming all over someone, Harry didn't know them.

He paused for a moment to take stock. So he was no longer theoretically maybe interested in men, but very definitely gay -- it didn't bother him nearly as much to admit it to himself as he had thought it might, though he knew that being the most famous gay wizard in Europe would probably be more difficult than just being the most famous wizard in Europe. It wouldn't change anything with Hermione and he sincerely hoped that, once Ron and Ginny got over the shock of being told, it wouldn't change anything with them either. Ron would probably be more distressed when he found out whose bed Harry was sharing, and Ginny...well, Ginny might be relieved that it was all women and not just her whom Harry didn't want to date.

He looked at the curve of Severus's head against his shoulder and felt another rush of heat in his lower body. He reminded himself that this was still Snape, who had never liked him very much on his own merits. Though Harry was sure his own interest had nothing to do with the magical connection from the blood they had shared, he was slightly terrified that it might fade for Severus, even if the silent communication had remained as strong as ever. He was determined to do whatever he could to make sure Severus didn't want to break the bond, because nothing had ever made him as happy as hearing his name in Severus's thoughts while they were sharing the best feeling he had ever known.

His mouth tasted funny and he remembered that they had never cleaned their teeth before they fell asleep. A silent _Accio_ brought his Toothflossing Stringmints floating from his bag in the bathroom over to the bed, but it was harder to unwrap the bloody things without his hands, and the first two fell on the floor. He was discreetly fumbling with the third when Severus's head lifted.

"There's a spell to clean your teeth, you know," he rasped, clearing his throat.

Feeling sheepish, Harry felt his cheeks warm. "I never learned it."

At Harry's blush, Severus's sleepy expression suddenly changed into Professor Snape's. For a moment Harry thought he was about to receive a lecture. "Then I will demonstrate," he said. And before Harry could begin to guess what the older man was up to, Severus had wriggled down in the bed and without any warning rubbed his mouth over Harry's cock.

"Oh _fuck_!" Harry groaned, hips bucking instinctively to keep his cock in contact with the teasing lips.

"Much better," nodded Severus, letting his tongue rub up and down the already-damp slit. He smirked up at Harry when Harry gaped down at him, breathless and moaning. "I'm afraid it only works properly when the same treatment is applied to the entire mouth..."

Then, as Harry watched, Severus wrapped his lips around the full head of his cock and sucked, engulfing it in heat. Anything it might have occurred to Harry to do -- shift around to try to kiss Severus, for instance -- flew straight out of his head. He had only a single thought: _Oh God, oh God, don't stop!_

Severus chuckled softly, sending vibrations shooting straight into Harry's lower body. Automatically he spread his legs. "Mmm," Severus hummed in approval, stroking a hand inside Harry's thigh, sliding around his balls and cupping them. Severus's tongue was too busy on Harry's cock to permit further speech, but that was fine with Harry, who couldn't have formed a coherent reply, anyway.

If he had thought actual sex couldn't get better than rubbing their cocks together, he had no idea how it or anything else in the world could possibly improve upon this -- thrusting into wet heat that moved up and down with him. One of Severus's fingers had slipped behind his balls and was rubbing in a place where Harry had hardly dared touch himself, and he had never done anything as wicked dirty as _fuck yes fuck_ popping a fingertip into his mouth to get it wet, then teasing the hole with it.

It was all going to be over embarrassingly quickly, Harry knew -- he hoped Severus knew, too, because he seemed only to be able to grunt more loudly. _Now oh God now!_

_Oh yes._

Writhing and groaning, Harry erupted into Severus's mouth, clutching at the bedcovers to stop himself from clutching at Severus's head. He felt Severus's mouth and throat working around his cock as Severus swallowed. _Oh fuck bloody perfect!_

He felt Severus laugh around his still-throbbing cock before Severus slid back enough to smirk at him, wiping his mouth with a finger, then licking that, too. The finger that had been probing behind Harry's balls was still there, making tiny circles.

"That was -- oh God -- amazing." Harry was surprised that his vocal chords still worked. His muscles twitched against the fingertip teasing him gently. "Are you going to --" He gulped back his nervousness. Surely Severus would tell him that he wasn't ready to do it if he wasn't ready to say it. "-- to fuck me?"

Heat flared in Severus's eyes, but after a moment he shook his head. "Not this morning. We will both enjoy it more when you're more accustomed to this." The finger slid away as Severus's expression grew speculative. "Besides, you haven't even had your teeth cleaned yet."

Harry eyed Severus's cock, which looked much more enticing than any Toothflossing Stringmint. "You don't mind that I might need some practice?"

"The beauty of this spell is that it is nearly impossible to get it wrong," Severus said when Harry held up one hand to be tugged upright. Harry wanted to kiss him but wasn't sure of the proper etiquette for asking if it was all right to taste oneself from one's lover's mouth.

To hell with etiquette. Harry leaned in, making his intention clear, giving Severus the opportunity to shy away. The surprise on his face was gratifying as their lips brushed, then clung. The taste wasn't unpleasant, just different, the bitterness of Harry's seed mingling with the morning taste of Severus's mouth. "I won't get it wrong," Harry said. It was much easier to feel confident with the blunt tip of Severus's cock poking him in the belly.

"See that you don't," smirked Severus, allowing Harry to guide him down into the sheets. Harry looked down, then frowned as the outline blurred with distance. He pushed his legs out between Severus's even though it meant they were dangling off the edge of the bed, laying flat on his belly between the outstretched legs.

"Couldn't see," he murmured, pushing his face against one leg. From this angle he could feel the heat of Severus's body enclosing him as his tongue flicked up, licking a stripe along the underside. He felt a tremor go through Severus and licked again. There was a groan this time, whimper-soft, as Harry continued covering as much cock with his tongue as he could. Lifting up he could make out Severus stretched out in the bed, watching Harry raptly. With a jaunty grin he bent back to his task, closing his mouth around the tip of Severus's cock.

_More!_

Harry smiled around his cock, then immediately gagged a bit as he tried to take too much in at one time. With a sheepish smile he lifted back up and lowered his mouth more slowly, wiggling happily when he succeeded in working his mouth nearly all the way down. He felt fingers in his hair and tried to remember the things Severus had done to him while thus engaged and couldn't think of anything but doing this as well as he could. Preferably without gagging again. Severus's legs shifted, rubbing against Harry as his hips began to move. Harry remembered to use his tongue, dragging it around the soft ridge before moving down with his mouth. With the vivid memories of just how this had felt the other way around, Harry sucked with sloppy intensity.

_I think I like this spell._ Then he nearly gagged again when Severus's toes pressed against the cock he hadn't realized had gotten hard again. Pushing against him, Harry moaned around his mouthful, grabbing Severus's cock around the base and stroking, belatedly remembering that this had been one of the things Severus had done to him.

_Oh good, very good, so good..._

Feeling more confident, Harry sucked harder, squeezing and stroking till he felt Severus's fingers clenching in his hair hard enough to hurt.

_Sorry!_ Severus thought at him.

Harry shook his head slightly, reluctant to remove his mouth even to reply. Instead he sent an image of how good this had felt when Severus had done it to him, adding a playful wiggle against his toes for good measure.

"Harry, fuck!" Severus cried out, the sound almost odd in the nearly silent room -- silent save for the eager sounds of sucking and of bodies moving against each other. Harry felt Severus's legs go rigid against him and clung harder to the cock that was suddenly erupting into his mouth. He didn't gag this time but it was a near thing, instinctively relaxing his mouth enough to swallow and swallow. Giving the head a lingering lick before looking up, Harry's grin was firmly in place.

_I did it!_ he thought in triumph, feeling his cheeks warming in the rush of pleasure that followed.

The fingers had gentled in his hair, stroking evenly while Severus caught his breath. "You did it _well_," he said, the rough timbre of his voice doing pleasant things to Harry's prick.

"Does that mean I get an 'O'?" asked Harry, grinning more widely. Severus barked a laugh. "I had a good teacher," Harry added. "I want you to teach me everything."

"I'm afraid I don't know 'everything.'" Severus was tugging on his arm, and Harry wriggled up next to him. It was much easier to make out Severus's expressions from so close. At the moment he had the look on his face that had sometimes meant Harry was in trouble. "I'm afraid that you'll have to teach me, as well."

"But I don't know anything," Harry objected, shivering as Severus's hand stroked over his hip.

"You know what you like, don't you?" A finger traced down his belly as Severus leaned in close, whispering in Harry's ear, his breath warm against Harry's face. "You know whether you like to play with your bollocks when you wank, and whether you like to pinch your nipples. You know whether you've tried putting anything in your arse to see how it feels. You know whatever dirty fantasies you keep buried too deeply for Legilimency and which you want to act out..."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," Harry chanted, his cock now fully hard and aching. He moaned and rocked against Severus.

"That's what I think you should teach me," murmured Severus.

There were so many erotic pictures in Harry's head now that he couldn't begin to sort them out. He tried to send Severus an image of the two of them sitting in a tub stroking each other with soapy hands, but it got mixed up with picturing the two of them naked on a broomstick flying over London.

"I see your imagination has not gone to waste," Severus said approvingly. "But I didn't mean that you needed to show me what goes on in your mind. That can lead to...misunderstandings, between people who have only just begun to experiment with each other."

"This isn't an experiment," Harry objected.

"My point is that such a connection cannot be rushed." Harry's embarrassment about being corrected was overridden by the fact that Severus sounded like he was talking about intimacy, which at least suggested that he wasn't only doing this with Harry to get easy sex. "It would make things easier if you would show me what you like."

"But you just said not to show you..." Suddenly Harry understood what Severus meant. "Oh fuck! You want to watch me do _that_?"

Severus made a sound that was a cross between a purr and a growl. "Very much." He settled on one elbow, raking his eyes over Harry.

Harry had never been so embarrassed and so aroused at the same time. With the images of things he'd like to do with Severus fresh in his memory, he added others to the collection: being ordered to bend over a desk in the dungeon, being sucked off in public under a large snowy white tablecloth, he and Severus, naked, entwined in front of a roaring fire.

At least some of these images must have echoed in Severus's brain because he moaned softly, just as Harry slid his hands down his chest. "I -- I like to take my time, when I can," he said, not touching his cock, not yet. He teased his nipple with one fingertip. "Though I've had to make do with hard and fast most of the time," he admitted.

"I remember that from my own student days," Severus said, and Harry liked the little breathless catch in his voice.

Harry tried not to feel self-conscious as he rubbed little circles around one nipple, growing bolder as he noticed the effect he was having on Severus. "But your Potions professor wasn't as hot as mine," he said, letting his hand slide over his belly. He'd always been a bit sensitive about having so much hair below the waist when he had so little on his chest, but he liked sliding his fingers into it when he saw Severus's eyes following the trails his fingers made.

"You never --" Severus said, his evident enjoyment marred by a frown.

"You were...forbidden. Mysterious. Dangerous." A bit of Harry's own pre-come had slid down the tip of his cock. He swiped it up with the pad of his thumb, tasting it. "Sexy."

"You hated me," Severus said, rubbing his lips together as if tasting that bit of seed with Harry.

"Haven't you ever wanked over someone inappropriate?" Harry demanded. He could tell by the slight flush on Severus's cheeks that he'd made his point. He let his fingers ghost around the base of his cock, not stroking, not yet. "Feels so good when I roll them around like this," he said, demonstrating with his bollocks, rubbing his thumb down the seam and cradling them in his palm. "Not too hard, just enough to really get me going."

Now that he was seeing how explaining each stroke was affecting Severus, Harry was much less embarrassed. Severus's legs moved restlessly against one another, the sleek bulk of his cock shifting against his groin. "Where else do you touch yourself?" Severus asked, not succeeding in keeping the heated quaver out of his voice.

"You know," Harry replied, because it was much easier to demonstrate. He leaned back, shifting his hips and spreading his knees further as his finger dipped down below his balls, "here." He rubbed his fingertip across the wrinkled skin around his arsehole, much as Severus had done earlier. "Tried to imagine what a bloke's cock would feel like in it."

_Fuck!_ came the silent, but heartfelt expletive.

"Mmm hmm," Harry said, wiggling his finger in just a bit. "The fact that the idea didn't worry me quite as much as it ought was a good clue I wasn't altogether straight." He'd thought of fucking in the abstract, of course, as any teenage virgin would. But his thoughts had never been much concerned with being on top, and his fantasies, the ones that he kept secreted away, had rarely included girls.

Severus was watching Harry finger himself with great avidity. "Did you ever..." The picture that shot into his mind was not his own fantasy -- it must have been one of Severus's. There was Harry, seen from above, penetrating himself with _Oh God_ the tip of his wand.

"Fuck!" Harry moaned aloud, wrapping his free hand around his aching cock and giving it a squeeze. "N-no...just my finger..."

"Just one?" Blushing, Harry nodded. "Do you know any lubrication spells?" Harry shook his head no. He was stroking his cock now almost without thinking, though not without a surge of heat in his face when he saw Severus watching his hand, studying how Harry moved his fingers.

"I see that there will be a great deal to teach," murmured Severus, who didn't sound one bit sorry. Reaching across Harry, he lifted his wand, which made Harry shiver after the image he had just seen of what Severus thought about doing with wands. "The spell is _Demadesco_."

He pointed his wand at Harry's groin. Instantly Harry felt the tight opening into which he was pushing his finger grow smooth and slick. "Oh," Harry breathed as the finger slid in effortlessly.

"Do you like that?"

"Merlin! Yes!" Harry could see that Severus was hard again, his cock bobbing against his belly. Smiling a bit, Harry made a show of pumping his finger in and out. "Do you do this to yourself?" Severus nodded shortly. "Did you ever think about me while you did?"

Instantly Harry's mind was flooded with images -- himself from above as Severus squatted over him to ride his cock, himself pinning Severus against a dungeon wall with his cock inside Severus -- and he shuddered hard. "I needed...distraction," Severus moaned as if ashamed. "I do have certain principles. I have never regarded any other student so inappropriately."

"Merlin's balls, don't apologize!" Harry found that it wasn't terribly uncomfortable to push a second finger inside himself. In fact, it allowed him to press deeper, against a spot that felt very, very good. Privately he was very glad to hear Severus say he wasn't usually attracted to students, though some corner of his mind continued to worry at Severus's belief that what they were sharing was all tied up with Voldemort and Harry's parents and power rather than the surge of affection Harry felt when he looked at Severus.

Severus was now touching himself as well, moving his palm across the head of his cock. "Come here," Harry commanded. "I want to feel that."

"Yes." The word was a moan as Severus lunged forward, cock rubbing along Harry's thigh until Harry could reach it and wrap his hand around it. The shape was different from his own, longer, thicker, though Harry's was sleeker. Harry's fingers adjusted to the feel, easily matching strokes. Then Severus's fingers slid around Harry's on his own cock as if memorizing the position and the rhythm of his strokes.

"Let me," Severus said, and Harry didn't care what it was Severus wanted to let him do, he nodded in agreement. While Harry worked his hand up and down Severus's cock, Severus's hand nudged Harry's away from the juncture of his thighs, instead wiggling one fingertip inside to replace Harry's.

"Oh fuck, yes," Harry whimpered, not even caring that he was definitely whimpering. He found out at once that the angle made all the difference in the world. His fingers loosened on Severus's cock as a ripple of pleasure surged through his balls and up his spine, tingling sensations that seemed to go on and on with each deft push of Severus's fingers. "That's --" Harry tried, bucking into the knowing finger with near mindless eagerness.

"Just one of the things I want to teach you," Severus said, his voice close to a purr despite the shaky grip Harry had on his cock.

"Want to learn them all," panted Harry, determined anew to learn what Severus liked as well.

"Even if there are...consequences if you do not pay attention in class?" Severus asked, and there was a light of mischief in his eyes -- had they actually been in class, Harry would have been prepared to receive detention. With one finger buried inside Harry's arse, and his naked cock thrusting against Harry's finger, that mischief didn't look nearly so malevolent.

"What sort of consequences?" Harry asked, and immediately his mind was filled with images, of himself, naked though in this particular vision, Severus was fully dressed in his teaching robes, with a squirming Harry over his lap, lifting his hand for another swat to his upturned bum.

"You -- you wouldn't?" Harry protested, but even to his own ears the protest lacked any force.

Vision-Severus brought the hand down and left a clear hand print pinking on vision-Harry's arse. Harry wailed and sent a returning image of himself, still naked, with pink spots on each cheek, kneeling between Severus's legs, pulling the rigid cock from his trousers and rubbing his mouth around him, looking up in supplication.

"Fuck!" Severus said out loud, though Harry heard it inside his head too.

"We may need a lot of time if I'm going to learn everything," panted Harry, not ashamed of bucking into Severus's hand, trying to keep pace with the strokes to his own cock.

Something about those words startled Severus, but Harry was too wrapped up in the pleasure of hands and fingers and sweet, hot friction to puzzle out what it could have been. Instead the familiar voice in his head took on an unfamiliar tone, softer, more tentative, despite the heated movements of their hands. _As much time as you will allow_, Severus thought at him.

_Forever like this_, thought Harry urgently, moaning aloud as Severus's finger twisted exquisitely inside him, pressing deeper than Harry had ever dared, touching a spot Harry had vaguely been trying to find but had never quite reached. He cried out, feeling Severus's breath against his face as Severus hummed softly.

"You may grow tired of me much sooner than that. Forever is a long time."

"Good. Then we can do it again if, oh God, I can't last like this!" Harry realized that he was probably squeezing Severus's cock too hard and tried to concentrate on returning to a rhythm in stroking, though every time that finger inside him bent upward, all he could do was arch and wail.

If Severus did that with his cock, pushed it inside Harry and angled it to touch him just there, while he was stroking Harry just so...

The image was in his own mind and Severus's both, Severus sliding into him, sinking deep inside to nudge that same spot over and over. It was more than Harry's overloaded senses could bear. With a helpless grunt he convulsed around Severus's finger and came hard, spattering over his own belly.

_Harry, oh yes, Harry!_ Severus's hand slid off Harry's cock and covered Harry's on his own, stroking himself with Harry's fingers, thrusting urgently into his palm. Still shuddering, Harry watched Severus's face contort with pleasure.

_Yes, come for me just like this, want to feel it!_ Again he sent Severus an image of himself on his knees, nuzzling Severus's cock until it erupted over his mouth and face.

"Harry!" The hoarse cry reverberated as Severus thrust through his fingers, bucking on top of him. Suddenly Harry's palm and thigh were slick with seed. Moaning breathlessly, he continued to milk the spasming cock in his hand as Severus bucked and groaned above him. Finally Severus slumped heavily, breathing hard, sliding his hands away from Harry to catch his weight before he fell over him.

"Did I do that all right?" Harry asked, hoping the triumph he felt at having made Severus come again didn't sound like gloating in his voice.

"At my age, it usually takes longer than that to recover," Severus panted. "Your enthusiasm is gratifying."

"So is yours." Harry turned his head, trying to peer up at him. "Did you mean it? We can keep doing this after we go home? I mean, to Grimmauld Place?"

"We can keep doing this until you realize you can have your pick of younger, more skilled, more attractive lovers." Severus wasn't meeting his eyes.

_Look at me._ Aloud Harry said, "I don't want anyone younger and I find it hard to believe you don't know how good you are at this."

Finally Severus tilted his face so that he was looking at Harry. "When the novelty of the physical pleasure wears off, you may realize that you settled for the first person you dared to pursue it with."

Now Harry was irritated despite how good he felt. "I'm not settling for anything," he said crossly. "I never did this with anyone before because there was never anyone I wanted to do it with. I want to keep doing it with _you_. If you don't want to keep doing it with me because I'm too inexperienced or whatever, you might as well tell me the truth."

For a moment Severus's hand tightened around Harry's wrist. When he spoke, the strange, tentative sound that Harry had heard in the voice in his head was in Severus's actual voice as well. "I want to keep doing this for as long as..." _Forever, if you meant it._

Harry sighed happily, relaxing against Severus. "Then in theory, we want the same thing," he said.   
Severus didn't say anything for a few moments as they settled against each other. He dragged the blankets up over them both as Harry burrowed against his chest. "We should get up soon," he said, though he made no move to do so.

"Mmm," Harry purred in agreement, sliding a hand over Severus's hip, feeling possessive. "Is it always like this?" he asked, rubbing his cheek against Severus's chest.

"If you mean, do lovers usually have rows about staying together forever after their first night together, I'm not the person you should be asking," replied Severus, though there was no sharp edge to his voice.

It took Harry a moment to process the word 'lovers' but he liked the way Severus said it. A happy quiver went through him and he tilted his face to look up. "No, I meant, is it always this good?"

The tip of Severus's chin rubbed through the no-doubt untidy mop of Harry's hair. "In that regard, sex is no different from wanking." Harry had the sudden image of Severus spread out on his bed, naked, cock in hand. Some of this thought must have bled over into Severus's mind because he moaned softly before continuing. "Sometimes the urgency is so overwhelming, you think you'll turn to flame in the grip of it." Harry shivered slightly, not wishing to think Severus had found this sort of passion with anyone else, but perversely also glad he'd known that kind of pleasure. "And sometimes it's a simple comfort, or a necessary function like eating or breathing."

A sigh above his head ruffled his hair. "I am, however, as I mentioned, hardly an expert in any form of intimacy." Harry looked up to find Severus's mouth curved in a self-mocking smile. "Save perhaps wanking."

Harry liked the idea of needing sex -- sex with Severus -- as much as eating or breathing because it already felt a bit like that. Once they'd crossed the line from the searching looks in Grimmauld Place, Harry didn't want to have to go back to hoping his advances would be welcomed. "This is better than that," he said, pushing his face up for a brief kiss. "Better than anything."

Severus kissed him back, the corners of his mouth turning up against Harry's. "Even the greatest of physical pleasures is fleeting," he said. A shadow passed across his face. Harry wondered whether Severus had done something for sex that he regretted afterward, and hoped it hadn't involved any of the Death Eaters. He decided he definitely needed to keep that thought to himself, but something must have shown on his own face because Severus frowned and looked away. "I was undisciplined and foolish when I was younger."

"I think you've more than made up for whatever lapses you once had in discipline." Harry tried to keep his voice light. He hadn't meant to have such a serious conversation so soon after feeling so good and hoped Severus wasn't annoyed. "Though I wouldn't mind trying that turning to flame thing."

That made Severus smile, though after a moment he added, "Speaking of flame..." Raising up on an elbow, he glanced in the direction of the fireplace. "I should check on the potion."

Reaching for his glasses, Harry blinked in the light as Severus tugged back a bit of curtain. He watched as Severus slid out from beneath the blankets and shivered when his feet left the edge of the rug for the stone around the hearth. Severus still looked very thin and pale, and there were lines on his face that Harry didn't remember from Hogwarts. Whatever curse Nagini's bite had placed on him must have been painful as well as deadly.

"Is it done?" he asked.

"More river mint would be beneficial. I shall ask for some with our breakfast." At the mention of food, Harry's stomach growled loudly, making him blush. "I see that I have overtaxed you without proper nourishment," added Severus with a smirk. "What would you like?"

"One of everything," Harry admitted. He had no idea what the hotel had on its menu, but if the breakfast foods were half as good as the supper foods, he felt certain he wouldn't be disappointed. "Want me to order while you're working on that?"

Half an hour later, Severus had put the mint leaves in to brew with the rest of the ingredients of the potion, while Harry was eating his third sausage, sipping some kind of exotic sweet fruit juice, and speaking via Muggle telephone with the receptionist at the dental office where the Grangers worked to determine the best time to visit. "I pretended I was seeking an emergency consultation," he reported to Severus. "They're doing an extraction at four in the afternoon, so they can't take a look at my cavities today. Maybe after breakfast we had better practice that tooth-cleaning thing you taught me."

He grinned as Severus's eyes swept over him. They had both put on the soft spa toweling gowns and slippers provided by the hotel, but nothing else. "We will need to find an isolated swamp," murmured Severus.

Harry's smile faded uncertainly. "Wait. You want to do it in a swamp?"

Flustered, Severus took a bite of egg. "I would be no Potions master if I did not visit the mangroves," he explained. "The salt excreted by the _Avicennia marina_ is invaluable."

It was probably the least sexy come-on anyone had ever received, but Harry knew his -- what? relationship? courtship? -- with Severus would be unconventional. He sniffed the tiny jar of vegemite before adding some to his toast. "So, we go collect this salt stuff --"

"_Avicennia marina_," Severus supplied, watching Harry's reactions. "The salts here are much better than American mangroves for healing skin disorders and snake bites."

Harry nearly choked on the salty vegemite toast. "Snake bites?" Severus nodded. Harry noticed he avoided the vegemite, liberally slathering his toast with jam. "Then we definitely need some. Do you know how to collect it?"

Nodding, Severus added more sugar to the spicy tea provided with their breakfast. "In theory," Severus answered.

"Have you ever been here before -- not to this hotel I mean, but to Australia?" Harry asked, sliding the sugar packet bowl over when Severus was done.

"No," said Severus, "I've never done much traveling at all."

Harry fiddled with the sugar packet before setting it down and reaching over and squeezing Severus's hand. "Maybe we can do more of it," he said, trying not to make it sound like a question.

"You're assuming that we accomplish our current task and I do not spend the rest of my life in Azkaban," Severus replied, but his thumb rubbed over the back of Harry's hand.

It shouldn't have made Harry laugh, but it did. "You are _not_ going to Azkaban," he insisted, and despite the skeptical look, Severus finished his breakfast and checked the potion again, pronouncing the temperature safe enough to leave it simmering while they were on their excursion.

They took turns getting dressed, though while Harry scrubbed himself clean in the rain shower stall in the master bedroom, he thought maybe he should have tried harder to think of a way to see if Severus wanted to shower with him. Just the idea of what they could be doing was enough to give Harry an erection, but, with the promise of more to come later, he willed it down.

Clean and changed, he entered the smaller bedroom, still toweling his hair dry. "You were thinking about sex," Severus said, looking every bit as delectable though much less naked than when they'd parted. Severus had been leafing through the hotel-provided literature in the room, looking up as Harry entered. "In the shower," he added.

It seemed perfectly natural to drop a brief kiss on Severus's mouth before he sat down opposite him at the table. "I'm always thinking about sex," Harry replied. "And if you saw that, you should have joined me." Harry decided he really liked the way Severus's cheeks warmed when Harry flirted with him. He thought maybe not a lot of people had ever bothered to flirt with him.

"We must be finished with sufficient time to prepare to meet the Grangers. I believe it will be safe to Apparate into the mangroves. The area I have chosen should be quite isolated, although perhaps we should bring your Invisibility Cloak."

"Right," said Harry. He went into the next room to get it, wondering whether sidelong Apparition was just as unpleasant when done with someone with whom one wished to be very close.

Ten minutes later, he knew that the answer was yes, but he was distracted by the wild beauty of the swamp itself. Birds that he had never seen before flitted above them while fish wove in and out of the tangled roots of the mangroves. While Severus collected salt from the leaves, Harry had a brief conversation with a cat-eyed snake irritated at having had its home invaded by humans. Suspecting that Severus might wish to avoid snakes after his most recent encounter, he tried to keep his voice low.

"We'll only be a few more minutes," muttered Severus.

Harry's head jerked up to stare at him. _You said that in Parseltongue!_

_Don't be ridiculous. I am not a Parselmouth._

The snake undulated, its gaze swerving from Harry to Severus. _You are foolish as well as slow. Finish your task and be on your way!_ And with that, it slithered into the shallow water, vanishing in the murk beneath their feet.

"Huh," said Harry. "I wasn't sure I'd still be able to talk to snakes once the Dark Lord was gone." He glanced at Severus, wondering whether Severus had put it together yet that Harry had been a horcrux and how revolting Severus would find it.

"Apparently, you have passed that talent on to me." Severus looked at Harry. "Do you have any other unusual abilities that I should anticipate developing?"

"Maybe being quick at catching the Golden Snitch," said Harry sheepishly. "Do you suppose that if I drank a potion with a few drops of your blood, I'd become an ace Potions student?"

"I suspect it would take more than a few drops of my blood to accomplish that miracle," Severus said, smirking.

Their excursion proved successful, even though Harry tripped over one of the protuberant roots while helping Severus scrape off some of the mangrove bark, and he fell into the tea-colored water. Severus did not try very hard not to laugh while performing a drying spell on him, but even Harry had not wanted sex al fresco when he felt so sweaty and rumpled. "Before we go back, could we see the sea?" he asked.

Severus looked startled, but he glanced at the rumpled parchment with the map he had been using to navigate the swamp, took Harry's arm, and Apparated them once more. Though the beach could hardly have been described as crowded, it was not nearly as isolated as the mangroves had been. A scattering of large umbrellas dotted the sand, and sails glinted on the water.

It wasn't warm enough for Harry to be tempted to put his feet in the water, but he took off his shoes and socks to feel the sand. Growing up with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had meant no seaside holidays, not even to carry their sand chairs. "After we get your wand, we should take a real holiday," he said to Severus.

"Presuming that I am not in prison," Severus muttered.

"You know I won't let that happen. If it comes to that, with the Ministry, I'll break you out. We could run away someplace like this."


	7. Chapter 7

Once back at their suite, Harry padded off for another shower, his eyes closed blissfully as the cascade of water washed away the swamp and sand. There was a brief breeze as the stall door opened, and Severus, naked, joined him.

"I should check you for --" Severus closed the door behind him, stepping into the spray, sliding his arms around Harry's waist. "Local contagions."

Moaning, Harry pushed himself against Severus's chest. "Yes, I need a thorough examination," he whimpered back, lifting his face for the kiss that was already on its way to his mouth. Severus's hands moved lower, squeezing his bum, pulling him against the cock that was already prodding into Harry's belly. Kisses covered his neck, his jaw, then down to his shoulder, as if he were a very rare potion ingredient himself that needed to be tasted. Then Severus was on his knees, fingers dragging over Harry's hips.

"One can never be too careless with dental hygiene," Severus murmured, and it took Harry a moment to realize he was talking about their earlier "lessons." Leave it to Severus to make even dental hygiene sound sexy.

"Wait," Harry said, pushing his fingers into Severus's damp hair. "Say that again." When Severus looked up, questioning either Harry's sanity or his sense of humor, Harry said, "You said that in Parseltongue."

The smile that crossed Severus's features was all the more erotic for being full of that unexpected mischief Harry had discovered in him. "Well, you do have a rare specimen of snake here," he said, engulfing Harry's cock in his mouth. Then, for the next many minutes, Severus didn't speak at all. And Harry didn't say anything that would have made much sense to anyone else.

Later, dressed in no more than their spa robes, they enjoyed another of the hotel's excellent lunches, discussing various ways of approaching the Grangers. "We should just distract them, and then un-Obliviate them," Harry insisted.

"And do Lockhart-style damage that might be permanent," Severus said. There was more vegemite on the table, but he ignored it again, loading up on the sinfully flaky rolls with butter.

"Have you ever un-Obliviated anyone?" Harry asked, sliding his asparagus around on the plate. He'd never liked asparagus, and sampling it from a five star kitchen had not changed his mind.

"Not actually," admitted Severus, "though in theory the spell is completely reversible, if the proper precautions are observed."

"How does the potion fit in?" Harry asked, nodding toward the door of their room -- Severus's room, really, but Harry did not intend to sleep tonight in the room he'd been assigned.

"It works to strengthen neural connections that control memories. So instead of re-learning their past from bit and bobs, they can draw on the parts of the brain that the spell has blocked." He warmed up his own tea, silently offering to. do the same for Harry's.

Chewing on the inside of one cheek, Harry tried to work out how to accomplish their task without having Hermione kill him for making a mess of it. Severus too seemed deep in the complexities of their task while he sipped his tea.

"I would suggest that we attempt to un-spell them together, so minimize the inevitable confusion," Severus suggested. Harry sighed and nodded, having already come to that conclusion himself. He'd hoped to avoid having to tackle an unknown spell, but now that Severus had a wand, even one that was not his own, it would be easier for each of them to un-Obliviate one of Hermione's parents.

"What if --" Harry began, filled with uncertainties. Severus was already shaking his head, reaching across the table to squeeze Harry's hand.

"You are, despite your lack of Potions prowess, a competent, if unconventional, wizard," he said.

Harry wasn't certain how to interpret the 'unconventional' portion of that remark, but since it was obvious Severus was trying to comfort him, he decided it must be all right. He glanced at the ornate mantel clock then back to Severus. "I should practice."

Severus gave his fingers another squeeze before releasing them. "You should practice."

Sooner than Harry would have liked, it was time to depart. Severus had decanted the potion into the miniature bottles of mouthwash provided by the hotel while Harry practiced the spell they would need, and was bending over the table scrutinizing a modern map of the city. They had decided to wear business clothes and present themselves as medical supply salesmen rather than as patients, lest they should be dismissed by the receptionist for not having an appointment.

Harry tucked his wand away, then decided to slide it into his sleeve, then thought that might get awkward and put it back in his pocket, pacing back and forth behind the couch until Severus waved his wand over the map, causing it to fold itself. "It's time," Severus said unnecessarily, looking a bit nervous himself. Harry nodded, waiting for Severus to stand beside him before taking his arm for the Apparition.

The Grangers had an office in an upscale medical park not far from a local hospital. Severus Apparated them onto one of the paths through the complex, hidden from the main entrance by a cascade of ornamental blue flowers. The car park was nearly empty at this time of the evening as they strolled toward the glass-framed entrance. An engraved placard on the outside of one of the suites annouced the dental practice of Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

At this late hour, the waiting room was deserted, just as they had hoped. A nonverbal hiccuping spell sent the receptionist fleeing to the restroom, and a moment later, Hermione's father appeared. He had put on a bit of weight and looked more suntanned than Harry remembered, but otherwise, he appeared friendly and relaxed. "May I help you?" he asked.

"We wish to provide you with samples of a brand-new Macleans mouthwash, safe for children and the elderly because it can be swallowed," announced Severus, who then proceeded to pitch the product as if it could bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. Harry had to hide a smile behind his hand. Before long, Mrs. Granger had come in to see what the fuss was about. She too looked happy and comfortable, as if life in Australia had agreed with her.

The receptionist returned, still hiccuping frightfully. Mr. Granger sent her home with advice about taking deep breaths and swallowing water while Severus muttered, "_Fructus Crataegi_."

Then they were alone in the office with the Grangers, and Severus was pouring the potion from the purloined hotel bottles into the small paper cups next to the water cooler. Harry was relieved that the dominant scent was mint. Shooting Harry a significant look, Severus took a cup himself and urged the Grangers to try to the new drinkable mouthwash.

The moment the Grangers had lowered their cups, Harry and Severus raised their wands together. "_Finite Incantatem!_"

For a moment, the faces of the Grangers went completely blank. Then Mrs. Granger screamed. "Hermione! Where is she?"

"She's fine! She's fine, Mrs. Granger!" Quickly Harry dropped his wand, catching Hermione's mother's arm as she swayed and leading her over to one of her waiting room chairs. "I'm sorry, I know this must be a terrible shock."

"Harry Potter?" Severus had pulled out a chair for Hermione's father, who appeared no less stunned, though Mr. Granger was staring at Harry. "What has happened? Where is Hermione? Who is this man?"

"This is Professor Snape, from Hogwarts. He was our Potions professor." Harry spoke quickly, unsure how much Hermione would have told her Muggle parents about the wizarding world or the war with Voldemort. "He helped us -- he saved our lives, really. Hermione was very frightened for you, so she sent you here, but now she's sent us to bring you home."

"What were we doing in Adelaide? I remember moving here, but why don't I remember Hermione being here?" Perhaps Hermione had been right that she should have been here when her parents regained their memories -- they were both extremely distressed -- but then again, perhaps it would be easier for her not to have had to explain, for her mother looked quite angry. "Did someone put one of those curses on us to make us forget?"

"I wouldn't forget my own daughter!" shouted Mr. Granger.

"It's all right! It wasn't a curse. It was a spell to protect you. An evil wizard was threatening you, and Hermione knew that the only way to keep you safe was to hide you among other Muggles." Speaking rapidly, Harry gazed imploringly from one Granger to the other, then at Severus.

"But why would any wizard want to threaten us? We aren't wizards!"

Harry took a deep breath. "It was because of me. I don't know how much Hermione told you about me, but I had a spell on me for a long time, too." On impulse, Harry pushed back his hair, revealing his scar. "The wizard who gave me this mark came after me and everyone I cared about. He would have killed you just because you were important to Hermione, and she's important to me."

Both Grangers seemed to be calming down, though Hermione's mother was still glaring at Harry as if contemplating how to punish him, though whether for putting Hermione in danger or making her forget her own daughter, Harry wasn't certain. "I remember now," she said slowly. "That wizard put a curse on the boy who liked her -- Viktor."

"Viktor Krum is safe now," Severus put in hastily. "So is Ronald Weasley." Both Grangers smiled a bit. Clearly, they knew something about Hermione's feelings for Ron.

"But what about you?" Mr. Granger asked Harry. "You said Hermione is important to you. Are you in love with my daughter?"

"I --" Harry began, glancing nervously at Severus. "I love her like a sister, Mr. Granger. You probably know she's in love with Ron, and Ron is my best mate." Harry wasn't sure why he couldn't have left it at that -- Mr. Granger was nodding in understanding -- but Harry's mouth kept going without engaging his brain. "I'm in love with someone else."

Severus looked at him sharply, hand poised mid-pat over Mr. Granger's shoulder.

"How is Ronald?" Mr. Granger inquired, no longer glaring at Harry now that Harry had removed himself from the competition for Hermione's affections.

"He's fine," Harry reassured him, trying to ignore the pointed stare Severus was still levelling at him. "He and Hermione helped me defeat Vo -- the dark wizard, so that it's safe for you to return."

Mrs. Granger was apparently not convinced of Harry's trustworthiness. "Why didn't she come herself?" she asked suspiciously.

Severus finally dropped his gaze from Harry and knelt in front of her chair. "I'm afraid that's my fault, madam," he explained, "Miss Granger generously agreed to use her expertise in magic on my behalf, even though it required her presence in England when she had planned to come here to bring you home." Harry tried to keep his jaw from dropping, hoping he could remember this to share with Hermione when they got home. Severus had lowered his head in apparent self-depreciation. "Naturally, Harry and I volunteered to come in her stead."

Beside him, Mr. Granger cleared his throat. "You're certain that she's all right?" he asked them both. Severus looked up to Harry for confirmation just as Harry was nodding in agreement.

"She really is. And you know she would be here if she could," Harry replied gently. "She knew you'd remember me once the spell was removed, which is why she let me come in her place -- she didn't want to wait another day to let you know that she was fine."

Mr. Granger's eyes darted over to Severus, then back to Harry, but the question forming behind that knowing gaze lay unspoken. Harry felt his cheeks warming as if Mr. Granger had walked in at an inopportune moment this afternoon. Severus straightened, and Harry realized he was not the only one to have picked up their guilty vibe.

Severus cleared his throat. "Harry and I will provide any assistance you may need in relocating," he said. "I think you'll find that magical transportation will be faster and more convenient than what you're used to."

Mr. Granger looked at his wife. "Thank you, thank you both," he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "I think we'd like to speak privately."

"And ring up Hermione," Mrs. Granger put in. "I can't believe we haven't spoken to her in over a year!"

"She's at the Burrow with Ron." Two pairs of eyebrows shot up, and Harry added hastily, "And the rest of the Weasleys. I suppose I had better tell you, they're in mourning. Ron's brother Fred died."

Mr. Granger covered his mouth, and Mrs. Granger looked as though she might burst into tears. "Here," said Harry, pulling out the page on which Hermione had scribbled down the information about her parents' whereabouts. "There's a telephone number." Privately he hoped that Arthur Weasley hadn't gone fiddling with whatever Hermione had done to make the telephone work in Ottery St. Catchpole. "Sev-- that is, Professor Snape and I are staying at Thorngrove Manor, so you can reach us there."

Both Grangers looked at Harry oddly when he mentioned the hotel, but they did not remain distracted for long now that they had a way to reach their daughter. "We'll ring you in a few hours after we've had a chance to catch up with Hermione," Mr. Granger said, stepping forward to shake Harry's hand. "We appreciate all that you've done."

_It's time to go._ Harry knew that they were being dismissed, not that he blamed the Grangers for wanting to put their lives back together. "Is it all right to leave them alone?" he asked Severus in a low voice as they headed out the glass doors. "There won't be any side effects or reverting?"

"If indeed they call Miss Granger, reminiscing will enhance the speed with which they recover their memories, but there should be no reversion, regardless -- they will remember both the past months and the people they were for all the years before that." Severus glanced back over his shoulder. "Perhaps you should send Miss Granger a message, however, to be certain that she knows contact has been made."

Nodding, Harry ducked into a stand of trees, glanced around to be certain that nobody was approaching, and sent his Patronus racing swiftly away in the direction of the beach and home, buoyed by their success in restoring Hermione's parents' memories, though in truth, that was not what he was most cheerful about. He was smiling when he stepped around the trees to find Severus sitting on a bench in the manicured garden. "I think Hermione will be happy," he said.

"I imagine that she will be entertained, as well, when her parents ask her how long you've been sleeping with your Potions professor," Severus muttered.

Harry felt his face flushing. "They'll have so many other things to catch up on. They wouldn't be so indelicate..."

"True. Instead they will probably ask, since you mentioned it, how long you have been _in love_."

That made Harry blush even more. Severus didn't sound angry, but he did sound skeptical, as though he doubted Harry had meant it. "You're the one who booked us into the honeymoon suite in the fancy hotel," Harry pointed out.

"I did not book us into the honeymoon suite!" snorted Severus. "I chose the most private..."

"Right, which just happens to be a lavish romantic hideaway. Did you see the look the Grangers gave us when I told them where we were staying?" It was Severus's turn to look embarrassed. "Anyway, Hermione knew before I'd admitted anything to myself," Harry went on. "When I told her I was going to the Malfoys to find you, I pretended I was only doing it out of obligation, but she said she thought I liked you now."

Severus leaned back on the stone bench, studying Harry like one of the exotic birds they had spotted in the swamp. "Miss Granger's instincts are usually sound, save for her lack of taste in love interests."

"Hey!" Harry protested, though not without a grin. "Does that mean you believe me?" He leaned against one of the pillars holding a lush spray of ornamental flowers.

"It means that I'm willing to concede the notion that your inappropriate feelings for me have led you to conclude you must feel something deeper," Severus replied.

Harry frowned, though the answer had not been at all unexpected. He hadn't had a moment of blinding clarity where he knew he was in love with Severus, but once he'd said it, he'd known it was the truth. "You didn't mind my inappropriate feelings in the shower this afternoon," he said.

"You're confusing sex with love, not an uncommon mistake in young men," said Severus almost wearily.

"Are you sure you're not confusing it too?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Severus was no longer looking at him, but pretending an unusually keen interest in the pattern of decorative stones forming the path through the garden. "Hermione thought maybe you liked me too, a little," he prodded.

"I'm willing to admit to a few inappropriate feelings concerning you," Severus said slowly. Harry nearly sagged against the pillar in relief. He nudged Severus over on the short bench, wiggling into the narrow space so that their legs touched.

"Well, that's good enough to be going on with," Harry said, giving Severus's cheek a quick kiss.

Before Severus could reply, a flash of silver appeared in front of the bench. For a moment Harry thought his Patronus had returned, until he realized this form was much smaller. It was an otter -- Hermione's Patronus.

"Good work," it said, floating over the path in front of them. "Unexpected delay obtaining the item. Should have it tonight." The silver otter dissolved in a flash of silver-white sparks. Harry and Severus looked at each other.

Harry leaned back on the bench. "Think she's all right?" she asked, looking over at the spot where the otter had vanished.

"She is resourceful," Severus said, but Harry could tell he wasn't entirely unconcerned.

"We should go back," Harry said. "Tonight. Now."

Severus was shaking his head. "Always rushing off before thinking things through," he chided.

"She might be in trouble," argued Harry.

Severus leaned back on the bench, his leg pressing against Harry's. "If she were in trouble, she would have said so in her message," he replied. "And if she were in danger, she would not have been able to send such a casual message at all." He huffed in thought. "I think we should remain here and complete our own mission. She knows we could return at a moment's notice. If she thought our presence would aid her, she would have asked."

Harry couldn't help it, he grinned. "Well, she _does_ have good instincts," he said, earning himself a glare. Severus mumbled something under his breath that sounded like 'brat' but Harry didn't press him to repeat it. "Except in boyfriends." That definitely earned him another glare.

"If you ever use that phrase in relation to myself, I will hex your balls sideways," Severus said with a scowl.

Laughing, Harry brushed another kiss over his cheek, making note that Severus did not protest the casual affection. "Don't worry. I prefer 'love interest.'"


	8. Chapter 8

They were midway through another excellent dinner at Thorngrove Manor when the jangling of a telephone interrupted them. "It's less complicated to talk this way," Hermione explained as Harry tried to imagine how many Floo connections would be necessary to communicate between Britain and Australia. She had spoken to her parents, assured them that she was all right, and promised Harry and Severus could help them with charms to compress their luggage, but she didn't think that they would be returning right away -- they had patients to refer to different dental offices, and a practice to reopen back home.

"What happened with the wand?" asked Harry.

"Shh!" Hermione hissed. In a low voice, she continued, "Remember you said it might help if the Ministry thought the Malfoys were after it? Well, the Malfoys _are_ after it. When I went into the Department of Mysteries, Lucius Malfoy was already there."

"What would Malfoy want with Snape's wand?" Harry wondered aloud. Again Hermione tried to shush him, but Harry told her, "I don't think you need to worry about him spying on a telephone call -- I doubt the Malfoys pay any attention to how Muggles communicate."

He glanced at Severus for confirmation and received a nod. _She believes Malfoy is after my wand?_ Severus asked silently.

_He was in the Department of Mysteries when she was._ Aloud, Harry asked, "Hermione, did you talk to him?"

"As little as I could." Harry could hear her shudder. "He made the face at me he reserves for people of Muggle birth, and asked me what I was doing there -- he didn't actually call me a filthy you-know-what but it was obvious that he was thinking it. I pretended that I had authorization from Arthur Weasley. I doubt Malfoy believed me, but Mr. Weasley will cover for me if Malfoy asks him; the Weasleys think I was working on something to do with my parents, which isn't completely untrue." Harry grinned; it was so very like Hermione not to want to tell a lie, even with the Malfoys involved. "In any case, I had to tell Mr. Weasley that I needed to return to the Ministry, and he promised to give me proper authorization. I think he was disappointed I hadn't asked him in the first place."

That probably meant things were going well between Hermione and Ron. Harry smiled again. "Then in theory you'll have the wand before we get home," he said aloud, more for Severus's benefit than for Hermione's. "I wonder what Malfoy wanted with it?"

"I've no idea, but I don't think he'll try again. He and Mr. Weasley had a terrible row. Shacklebolt ended up telling them both to go home. I don't think Shacklebolt's angry at Mr. Weasley, though, since he's coming tonight for supper."

If Kingsley became the next Minister of Magic, Harry thought, it would be much easier to get Severus pardoned. "You won't get in trouble if you go back?" he asked.

"I'll be careful," she said. "And don't worry -- I'll put in a good word with Shacklebolt for Professor Snape." Blushing, Harry realized that Hermione's parents had probably told her all about what he had said in their office.

They rang off with promises on both ends to be careful and Harry replaced the receiver in the cradle. He recounted the parts of the conversation that Severus hadn't heard and sat back down to dinner, too full of questions and speculation to do the repast justice. "You're sure Malfoy is your friend?" he asked, playing idly with his baby peas.

"As certain as I am of anything," Severus replied. He too seemed to have lost his appetite for the meal. "He had me unconscious, near death, for many hours. If he'd wished me harm, why go to such efforts to save me?"

"And why let me know about it?" reasoned Harry. "He must have known that once I knew you were alive, I'd never rest until I saw for myself." Severus was looking at him strangely. Harry shifted in his chair. "What?"

Severus looked as though the giant squid had suddenly appeared in their room. "A month ago I would have sneered at those words. A day ago I wouldn't quite have believed them," he replied, and Harry felt his cheeks warming with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. "So we must assume there's an alternate reason Lucius is on the same errand as Miss Granger," he went on. Harry was pleased to note there was a faint flush in his cheeks as well.

"Proof of something, perhaps?" Harry speculated out loud.

"_Priori Incantatum_ would reveal no spell that would clear my name," Severus insisted, "And if Lucius wanted me in prison, he has more than enough evidence without my wand."

Harry leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes ceiling-ward in thought. "What if he needed it to cast some spell that would get you in trouble again?" he said, imagining a grand conspiracy with all three Malfoys at the center of it.

"To what purpose?" Severus insisted as Harry let the chair settle back to the carpet. "I don't believe he would put my welfare before his family's, but if he is the villain you paint him as, he is going about things the long way around. Why not just tell the press I was alive before I was well enough to defend myself? Why not denounce me in favor of Draco? Or why not just leave me to die?"

The last words gave Harry a shiver of premonition, as though Professor Trelawney had made one of her predictions, her _real&lt;/&gt; predictions. He lifted his hand to cover Severus's mouth lightly. "Don't even say that," he said, sliding his fingers away. "All right," he was willing to concede, "maybe Malfoy will never be my favorite person, but he did do something right." Which got them no further to solving the puzzle than before. "Then why do you think he's after it?" _

Severus took a slow thoughtful breath. "I can't be certain, but if our theory --"

Harry decided he liked the way Severus said "our" anything.

"-- is correct, perhaps Lucius is attempting to give me as many weapons against attack as he can." Severus touched the spot on his sleeve where his borrowed wand was kept. "He won't know that I've secured Regulus's old wand."

Frowning Harry pushed his chair up on two legs again. "So you think Malfoy is trying to give you back your old wand in case --"

Severus nodded. "In case one or more members of his family are indeed trying to kill me. Having my own wand may be an advantage neither Draco nor Narcissa expects."

As much as Harry mistrusted Lucius Malfoy, he had hoped Severus was wrong about what Narcissa might be up to. "What will you do?" he asked nervously. "Will you have to attack Draco before he can come after you?"

"I hope it won't come to that," Severus said. "I have known Draco since he was a child. If I can speak to him, I can persuade him of the folly of this course of action."

Harry remembered how Draco had looked both at Hogwarts and in his family home: scared out of his wits. "You'll have to convince Draco that making a horcrux is even more terrifying than dying," he said.

Severus frowned into his teacup. "Draco's mother asked me to make an Unbreakable Vow. When I used the Killing Curse on Dumbledore in fulfillment of that vow and of the promise I had made to Dumbledore, I stood in proxy for Draco, whom the Dark Lord had sent to kill the headmaster."

"To stop him from committing murder." Harry wasn't sure where Severus was going with this.

"That was Dumbledore's wish. His mother's only concern was that Draco be spared from danger."

"Wait. You mean that Draco owes you a life debt? Like Pettigrew owed me?" Harry would never forget the grotesque way Pettigrew had died, murdered by his own magical hand after he tried to attack Harry. He had no sympathy for the man who had betrayed his parents and murdered Cedric Diggory, but he did think Dumbledore would have wanted Draco to be spared such a fate, after he went to such lengths to save him.

"Life debts are complicated magic," Severus sighed. "I can't be certain that I will be protected, no more than your mother could be certain that her sacrifice would save you. But perhaps the principle can be used to convince Draco that to try to harm me might rebound upon him, presuming that he believes me, and does not assume that I am merely protecting my own interests."

"Even if he does think that, he'll know that what you're saying could be true. Everyone knows how I got my scar." Harry's appetite had returned somewhat now that he believed they had a plan. He reached for the bowl of exotic sweet fruit that couldn't be grown in Britain even during the height of summer.

Severus looked at Harry speculatively. "Tell me again how you survived the Dark Lord's curse."

"My mother -- "

_Not that one._

Harry had spoken only in general terms what had happened when he had gone into the Forbidden Forest. At the time of the explanation, he hadn't yet told Severus about the Deathly Hallows. He didn't think the reminder that a piece of the Dark Lord's soul had resided inside him would endear Severus to him in the slightest. "What's it got to do with Draco?" he asked apprehensively.

"If what I suspect is true, you may be able to frighten Draco more than I could. The Elder Wand might have protected you during a duel, but that is not what kept you alive in the forest. Dumbledore told me that he believed a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul had attached itself to you when you were a baby."

Harry swallowed, putting down his mangosteen. "It sounds like you've worked it out already. When Voldemort tried to kill me, he accidentally made a horcrux out of me. I had that -- that _thing_ with me until he used the curse on me a second time." Remembering the revolting baby-like fragment of Voldemort that had followed Harry into the dream-like afterlife, he shuddered.

"Powerful spells often backfire in unexpected ways. Horcruxes are not well understood; fortunately, they have been used very rarely. Draco needs to understand that even if he managed to create a horcrux successfully -- which I think is very unlikely, given his reluctance -- he could be controlled by it."

Severus did not seemed repulsed by having Harry confirm that he had harbored a fragment of Voldemort's soul, which further stimulated Harry's appetite. He wasn't certain what each of the exotic fruits were in his bowl, but the citrus blended with the sweet to create just what he was in the mood for. "Zombie Draco," he said with a shudder, "I don't fancy that."

"He wouldn't be --" Severus began, then, apparently alerted by Harry's smirk, lounged back in his chair. _Infant._

Gesturing with his fork, he pointed to Severus's untouched bowl of fruit. "You should try that, it's really good." He pushed it closer with his fork until Severus took up his own fork and speared up a bit of mango. Harry watched his expression turn from sour to sweet as the juice escaped from the side of his mouth. "You've got a bit, just there," he said, raising a fingertip to wipe it away. It took only a slight turn of Severus's head to capture the errant fingertip and suck it into his mouth.

_Delicious._

Harry whimpered as Severus released his finger and dug into his fruit with enthusiasm. He forked up a bit of something with rows of purplish seeds. "What's this?" he asked. Severus bent down and Harry brought the fork up to his mouth, watching his tongue flick out over the sample.

"Passionfruit," was the verdict, though Harry's cock supplied its own definition. Severus took a bite off Harry's fork and Harry finished off the rest.

"And this?" Harry asked, though his voice shook a bit in anticipation as he offered up a piece of something fleshy and more yellow than the mango.

This one required a more thorough decision, as Severus rubbed his mouth over the bit before sampling it. "Local jackfruit," Severus concluded, "a species in the mulberry family."

Despite the lecture, Harry was eager for more lessons. Severus plucked the remaining bit off Harry's fork and offered it from his fingers. Harry licked it tentatively and sucked the rest into his mouth. "I like the tart stuff better," he decided.

That gained him an amused snort. "You've an untrained palate," said Severus, sorting though his own bowl and selecting a purple and white slice with a star pattern in the center. "Try this one," he offered, holding the fork up to Harry's mouth.

Harry practically purred at the taste, though the taste was enhanced by the tasting it at Severus's request. "Oh yes, that's the best one," he decided, taking another bite but leaving enough for Severus to finish off. "I've seen that one, or something like it, in Potions books." He tried to place it but was too distracted by Severus's mouth pulling the soft flesh into his mouth and licking his lips, then the juice from the fork.

"Star apple," Severus supplied, "nearly all the parts of the tree are useful in potions, as are the fruits and the leaves."

Normally a potions lecture would not make Harry horny. Of course, normally he was not plotting how to get his professor to forego the rest of the lecture and drag him to bed. "And what's the big, hard one in the center?" he asked innocently.

"That is a banana, as you know perfectly well," Severus said with a comically stern expression. "You might be disappointed -- once you tug back the peel, they are seldom as hard as they appear."

"I don't think I'll be disappointed -- I've had this kind of banana before." Harry decided that he had had enough local produce. Pushing back his chair, he moved around the table to unfasten Severus's trousers. "I want banana for dessert."

"As long as you're certain that you did not overindulge at dinner." Again Severus gave him a mock-stern appraisal. "Banana can be very filling."

"I'm counting on that." Oh -- Severus hadn't bothered to put on pants. "Did you go to see Hermione's parents like this?"

"Not with an erection, no."

"I meant not wearing underwear!" Harry licked the head of his cock for emphasis and was rewarded when it twitched against his tongue.

Severus groaned softly. "I have been trying to teach you the virtues of being prepared."

There was very little Harry could think of that was virtuous about Severus walking around with his cock dangling free under his clothes. "Oh fuck -- it's a good thing I didn't know, or I'd have been _prepared_ all afternoon!" In fact, his own cock was swelling uncomfortably in his jeans, and he worked a hand down to unbutton them.

"How very fortunate that you made it through your meal before dessert," came the breathless reply. "Before you proceed, may I suggest that each of us has a luxurious bed just a few steps away?"

Engrossed as Harry was in licking Severus's cock, he had to admit that his knees would probably appreciate a change of venue. With a small whimper, he straightened. "Want to try out mine, since no one slept there last night?"

Severus accepted the hand that Harry offered to help him to his feet. "It would seem a waste to have paid for the room and not to have tried it out." While Severus pushed the button that would discreetly alert the hotel's housekeeping staff to clear away their dishes, Harry walked into the larger bedroom, folding back the untouched blankets. He started to strip off, but Severus came through the door as he untucked his shirt. "Let me do that."

The intensity of Severus's stare made Harry shiver. He still wasn't used to being looked at, even though Severus had seemed to like what he saw, this morning and again in the shower later. He felt small and scrawny and unimpressive.

_You have never been unimpressive, not even when you were much younger._

"Oh fuck -- I didn't mean to think that out loud," Harry whimpered.

Severus's hands were on his jeans, working them down his legs. "As with Legilimency, it seems stronger in close proximity and while looking directly at you."

Harry made a show of gazing into Severus's eyes, all but batting his eyelashes. "What am I thinking now?" he asked, rewarded when Severus groaned, kneeling to tug down the jeans over Harry's feet.

"As it happens, that's exactly what I'm thinking," replied Severus, gazing up from the vicinity of Harry's knees, and filling his mind with the same sort of images Harry had sent his way, that of Harry sprawled back in the bed, Severus moving over him, obviously buried balls deep inside him. "If you'd like to, that is, if you're sure --"

"I am," Harry insisted, cupping Severus's cheek. Severus pushed his face into Harry's hand, his mouth brushing over his palm.

"Once it's done, you can't ever have another first time, or someone else for your first."

_Will you stop that!_ Harry said, meaning to speak aloud, but his conviction was so strong that his mind all but shouted it. He tugged Severus back upright, stepping in close enough that their bare toes overlapped.

"I don't want anyone else. You know how I feel about you, even if you don't believe it or think I'm too young or think I'll regret it if we -- "

He had a lot more to say but couldn't continue with Severus's finger over his mouth. "I believe you," Severus said before lifting his hand.

"You do?" Harry said, not even mortified when his voice squeaked.

Severus was nodding, pushing his hands under Harry's shirt. His fingers fanned over Harry's chest. "Mmmm hmmm," he said with another nod, pushing the fabric up so that he could bend his mouth close enough to lick one nipple. "At least that you believe it, and if you believe you want me, I wish very much to be wanted."

Harry moaned, dropping his hands to Severus's shoulders while kisses covered first one nipple then the other before Severus tugged the shirt off and tossed it carelessly on top of Harry's jeans. _Want you so much._ He reached for Severus's trousers, yanking out the shirt, leaving it loose while he reached for the zip. His fingers were trembling by the time he got it all the way down. Two sets of hands sent the trousers to the floor, Harry helping Severus step out of them. _More than anything._

With a moan, Severus reached for Harry's hand, tugging him toward the bed, discarding his shirt along the way. Harry scrambled up first, sliding over to leave room for Severus, who looked like he wanted to say something but climbed in beside Harry, pulling him into his arms. Naked, he clung everywhere he could reach, legs brushing Severus's, craving even the touch of his toes against his own.

_Need you_, came the urgent moan inside Harry's head, though Severus started as if he hadn't meant to communicate such a vehement emotion.

"I need you too," Harry said aloud, rubbing a finger along Severus's damp bottom lip. "I never knew how much until I thought you were dead." Severus's lips closed around the finger, sucking on it, drawing a moan from Harry as the sensation once more directed itself to his cock. "Want you to teach me how to do this."

He knew when he felt Severus release his finger that it had been the wrong thing to say. Severus looked uneasy -- Severus who had not been afraid facing down Voldemort or Malfoy or anyone Harry had known, not even Dumbledore.

"I have never been a particularly good teacher where you are concerned," Severus said. "Nor am I particularly skilled at this."

After everything they had done the night before and that afternoon, Harry had a hard time believing that that was true. Severus's concern might have made a certain amount of sense if Harry had a lot of experience with lovemaking, but he didn't have any at all, and Severus knew it. Was that the problem? _You can't ever have another first time._ That had to have been what was holding Severus back.

"Was your first time -- not good?" he asked, and watched Severus flinch, not meeting his eyes.

"It was -- uncomfortable. Rushed. Humiliating."

Harry nudged his chin up to make Severus look at him and caught a glimpse of the shame. "Well, this isn't going to be like that." Whatever instinctive nervousness he had felt had disappeared. "I know you aren't going to hurt me, and I'm not embarrassed about any of it."

He was silenced by Severus's mouth descending on his, capturing his lips. "You are giving me greater credit for control with you than I merit."

"I'm not promising that I won't come too fast and ruin it, either." Harry smiled as the worry lines around Severus's mouth relaxed. He supposed it was easier this way than if Severus had been accustomed to brilliant lovemaking and had high expectations. "You know I want you. I've never wanted to do this with anyone else. If it's not perfect the first time, we'll just do it again until it is."

They kissed again, slowly, a sweet slide of tongue tasting of star apple and passionfruit. _I could never refuse you that_, Harry heard in his mind. And then something he was sure Severus hadn't meant to think, either at Harry or perhaps even in solitude, beneath the level of words but still clear in its meaning. Harry shivered happily, tightening his arms around Severus.

"I love you too."

Severus did not look startled -- he looked resigned at Harry's knowledge -- but he didn't stop kissing Harry. _See, I'm learning about kissing already_, he thought, letting his fingers stray through the thick hair at Severus's temple.

"I suspect that is the one area you've been practicing," Severus said aloud, and the emotion that had been tightening in Harry's chest eased at the light tone.

He made a face, grinning. "Not the same thing," he pointed out, kissing the side of Severus's mouth. "Not the same thing at all." _I've never kissed anyone I loved before._

Severus's eyes widened as they both realized Harry hadn't quite meant to say that either out loud or between them. Harry's chin went up. "It's true though." His fingers slid down to the end of the strand of hair between them, letting it slip through. Severus turned his face and pressed a kiss into Harry's palm.

"Not even as a sister?" he asked, dragging his kiss to Harry's wrist, which Harry had never considered arousing or especially erotic until that precise second.

"Exactly like a sister," Harry explained, watching the trail of kisses moving up his arm with rapt fascination, with one lingering in the crook of his elbow. "No one I ever wanted to --" He re-conjured the image that had led them here, that of Harry splayed on the bed, wrapped around Severus. He liked the way Severus refined the image and sent it back, hoisting Harry's legs over his shoulders before plunging in again.

_Show me teach me fuck me_, Harry thought all in a rush. Severus lifted up and kissed him again, sliding his arms around Harry urgently. Harry pulled him backward, practically on top of him to show him what he wanted--what he knew they both wanted. _You won't hurt me._ One of Severus's legs had found its way between Harry's, urging them apart. Unthinkingly, lost in the sensuous fog of kisses, Harry wrapped both legs around his and pushed his cock against one hip.

_Not so fast or you'll be done before we start_, thought Severus with gentle amusement.

"Can't help it," Harry panted, "you feel so good."

If it was possible to think a blush, Severus was doing it. "Obviously our lesson on extended foreplay can wait for another time," he said, leaving Harry's embrace only long enough to reach for his wand. The softly spoken "_Demadesco_" felt just as good as it had before, rendering Harry slick and open and wonderfully relaxed.

With a quiet moan, he spread his knees more widely apart. "Tell me if you want me to do something."

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Severus replied, rubbing a fingertip down Harry's cock, tracing between his balls to the sensitive spot behind them. Harry hoped he was clean enough -- he'd meant to ask whether there was a spell -- but a few moments later he was too distracted by the fingertip nudging inside him to worry about it. Experimentally, he squeezed his muscles, hearing Severus whimper softly through his nose. "So tight."

"Feels good," Harry murmured back. In truth, it still felt a bit scary, but good-scary, like the first time he'd ridden Buckbeak, when he'd realized that this was something he not only could do but could really enjoy once he understood how to begin. He pressed down on the finger, feeling the knuckle bend slightly as it slid in, putting pressure on that spot inside that was so sensitive.

Severus felt him shiver. "You're very responsive," he said, eyes wide and dark as he watched Harry. "This isn't uncomfortable?"

Groaning softly, Harry gestured at his still-hard cock. "Does that look like it's uncomfortable?"

"Perhaps not." The finger slipped back practically to the opening and a second finger pressed inside with it. "But I know it can be...overwhelming."

Sucking in a breath, Harry pushed down on the fingers. It was a bit intimidating, being so open, but the added pressure inside felt very good, and the idea of having Severus's cock inside him like that made his own dance in the air above his belly. He moaned, trying to rub a foot against Severus's shoulder. "This must the best kind of overwhelming there is!"

An image exploded into his mind, only this time he was thrusting into Severus instead of being wrapped around him, and Severus was shuddering beneath him. Harry could actually feel the phantom heat of Severus's arse clenching around his cock.

 

_Fuck!_

_Precisely!_ They were both moaning aloud, Severus's fingers speeding their movements in and out of Harry, stretching the slick opening. _There are so many forms of pleasure I wish to share with you._

_Start with this one, oh God, give me your cock!_

Severus did not make him beg again. With a needy whimper, he slid his fingers free, rubbing the slickness from the spell in Harry's arse over the head of his cock in what had to be one of the sexiest gestures Harry had ever seen. Harry tugged him down as Severus descended over him, pushing the thick head against muscle that resisted it for a moment, but then yielded to the pressure and the slick warmth, stretching, letting Severus thrust inside him.

_Oh fuck!_

_All right?_ came the immediate thought, full of concern.

Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the rush of sensations threatening to overwhelm him. He nodded, letting himself relax before opening his eyes again. Severus had gone still, a fine layer of sweat beading his forehead with the effort of remaining so. _More than all right_, he sent back, not trusting his voice.

A tentative thrust of hips and Harry moaned again, concentrating solely on relaxing around Severus's cock. "Better," he managed, wrapping his arms around Severus's neck just as his cock pressed in deeper, caressing that spot inside him that instantly transmuted the ache to the most urgent want Harry had ever felt. "Oh fuck, much better!"

"Lift your legs around me if you--_yes, just like that._ Harry had complied eagerly, rewarded when the angle of Severus's cock shifted just enough to caress him inside in both directions. This brought his cock close enough to press into Severus's belly. Harry hissed, though no serpent would have understood.

_More!_ was all Harry could manage, wrapping himself around Severus like a particularly friendly flying carpet.

_Touch yourself for me_, Severus directed, and the image that came along with the words sent Harry's hand flying around his own cock, though he knew nothing would stop him from coming like the image in Severus's mind if he did. Harry could feel the moan that built in Severus's chest as the thrusts because more erratic. Harry lifted his head, pushing his mouth against Severus's, though they panted more than kissed.

"Want to -- "

There were words for what Severus wanted but Harry didn't need them. "Me too," he moaned, feeling Severus's fingers wrap over his on his cock. The pressure inside and out made Harry's inner muscles clench, and he heard Severus's roar of pleasure in his mind at the same moment it burst from Severus's lips. More amazingly, he _felt_ it -- as if he were inside Severus's head directing the thrusting at the same moment he felt Severus's cock slide in deep, pushing against that eager spot inside.

_I knew it would be unprecedented with you._

Severus gave a little twist to his fingers as they came over the head of Harry's cock, not anything like the way Harry usually touched himself, and then it was all too much, having Severus in his arse and his mind and touching him and wanting him. With a shout, he trembled and erupted over Severus's fingers and his own, helplessly squeezing the hard cock inside him.

"Harry, fuck!" He thought he heard Severus groan his name, though that could have been in his mind, which was still spinning from coming and still trying to absorb the fact that he'd come while making love. With Severus Snape. He felt Severus stiffen and plunge in hard, and then he felt the thick cock pulsing, emptying itself inside him.

_Unprecedented doesn't begin to describe it_, Harry thought, though he'd started to say it aloud and realized he was still gulping in air.

"It's a start," replied Severus as a last shudder went through him. "In theory, we should get better and better at this." The prospect seemed to please him as much as it did Harry.

"Better?" Harry said, now that he had breath to speak. "Better?" He groaned happily, arching his head back on the pillow. "Is it possible to die from erotic anticipation?" He felt Severus shifting on top of him as his cock slipped free of Harry's body. Only the idea that it would be back again--soon--or that Harry's cock would be doing the same thing to Severus--again, _soon_\--kept him from making an idiot of himself and clinging to Severus to stay right there on top of him.

"As we have both discovered, it is possible to die from the most ridiculous of reasons," replied Severus, and Harry didn't mind his 'lecture' voice nearly so much now that they were miles from any classroom. Being naked and sated didn't hurt either. Severus stretched out beside him, nudging Harry's arm up so he could rest his head in the crook. Harry obliged, mostly because he wasn't sure he could move.

"Not going to let you die," Harry swore, feeling deliciously damp and sweaty with Severus nestled beside him. "And I'm definitely not letting Malfoy make a horcrux out of you."

He was surprised that Severus chuckled at this. Lifting up, he touched their mouths together in a kiss so brief it could only be called a nuzzle, then settled back into Harry's side. "As undying declarations of love go, that was fairly good," he said. He chuckled again and Harry decided he definitely liked Severus in the afterglow and decided to get him there as often as possible. "And not just because it was the only one I've ever gotten."

Lying like this, Harry could lean his face down against the top of Severus's head. He liked that his hair was just as sweaty as Harry's own. He indulged in a pleasant fantasy of trying out the big tub in the other bathroom and washing each other's hair till they got sweaty again.

"In the morning," Severus said, sounding sleepy, and Harry hadn't even realized he'd shared the image. There was a lot to this they still hadn't figured out, and Harry was determined they'd have time together to sort it out--preferably the rest of their lives. He tightened his arm around Severus, inhaling the mingled scent of the hotel shampoo lingering in his hair, and let his eyes drift closed.


	9. Chapter 9

A horrible jangling woke Harry from a deep sleep. Wrapped up as he was in Severus's arms and legs, it took him several moments to extricate himself, during which time he managed to determine that the noise was from the telephone. Fumbling across the bedside table, he managed to grab the receiver. "Yes?" he asked sleepily.

"Harry?"

It was Hermione, of course. At the excitement in her tone, his stomach dropped. Whatever had made her call at this hour was surely the worst sort of news, something about the Malfoys or the Ministry or Severus...

"I've just had a very good idea!" Hermione announced brightly. "My parents were concerned about returning to England without making proper arrangements for their patients, but there's no reason a Muggle couldn't perform sidelong Apparition with a wizard, is there? I was thinking, maybe you could ask Professor Snape, it ought to be possible for them to visit..."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted as patiently as he could. "Is this the reason you were calling?"

"Yes. I wanted to tell you right away..."

"Hermione, do you have any idea what time it is here?"

There was a long silence. "Oh," she said nervously. "Forgot about the time difference. I'm sorry, Harry!"

"Don't worry about it, but unless the world is about to end, I'm going back to sleep."

"I'm really sorry, Harry." Glancing over, he saw Severus's eyes glittering at him in the dim room and decided to forgive her. "Honestly, I'm so embarrassed, I should have remembered to check the clock."

"It's all right, really. I'll talk to you at a more human hour." He said goodbye and put the phone back in the receiver, his heart still pounding from his initial terror at being woken that way.

"Am I to understand that there has not been a catastrophe?" asked Severus.

"Only with Hermione's common sense."

Grunting softly, Severus stretched, his thigh brushing Harry's. Instantly Harry felt his cock respond, and moaned softly.

"Well, since we're both awake..."  
"What, again?" Severus asked, but his outrage did not even begin to approach sincere.

Harry tried very hard to look contrite, a task made more difficult by his insistent cock, which was apparently not worried about time zones. "Since I'll never have another first night with you," Harry said, lowering his eyes in what was intended to be a modest look but probably came off more as hopeful.

Severus narrowed his eyes, the glint in them undimmed as he tilted Harry's chin back up. "I never took you for the sentimental sort." That image flashed between them, the one of Harry on top of Severus, both faces transported by bliss as Harry thrust into him, though Harry wasn't sure which of them had sent it.

"How about the horny sort?"

"That I would believe," replied Severus before he kissed him. Both their mouths were rough from sleep but Harry didn't mind, not when his cock approved of any of Harry's body parts sliding into Severus's. "You don't mind that I don't seem --" He pulled back to gaze down at Harry, "-- to be able to resist you?"

Harry's answer was a moan, which also pleased his cock because Severus was moaning back, falling into the pillows and pulling Harry on top of him. Harry's heart was still thudding rapidly in his chest but not because of nerves, at least not the sort that presaged any crisis. "You'll show me what to do?" he asked, his voice a low whisper. "I don't want to hurt you or --"

Severus kissed him quiet again then broke apart and rubbed a finger over Harry's wet bottom lip. Harry knew he always babbled when he was nervous, but he felt steadier for realizing that Severus knew it too. "We don't have to do everything in one night," he said.

Harry wasn't sure whether that meant Severus didn't want to or was just trying to give him an out, so he nodded. "Maybe we could just practice?" he suggested hopefully. "So I'll know what to do when we actually, you know, do it?"

He blushed at his own awkward wording -- he didn't know whether to call it having sex or making love or one of the dozen cruder names for it in common use at Hogwarts -- but Severus smiled at him so he decided not to worry about it. "What, exactly, do you believe you need to practice?" Severus asked, sounding amused.

"Well, using that spell, for one thing."

"I presume you mean the lubrication spell," Severus said thoughtfully. Raising himself up on an elbow, he lifted his wand from the table beside the bed. A moment later, the door clicked open and something that looked like a potion bottle floated inside. "The spell is the quickest way to achieve the necessary result, but it is not the only way."

Whimpering softly, Harry took the proffered bottle. "Did you pack this?" he asked. "Does that mean you were hoping we were going to do this before I ever thought I'd have the nerve to get in bed with you?"

"In theory, the potion is effective for quieting squeaky hinges as well as the purpose to which we are going to put it," Severus said with an expression so wicked that Harry was sure he'd brought it along, if not for sex with Harry, then for some private activity that Harry whimpered again to imagine it. "You only need a few drops. Rub them all over your fingers."

"Oh God," Harry said breathlessly, spilling the slippery substance into his hand. He watched as Severus's knees pulled toward his chest, leaving him spread open. "Do I just...rub it in there?"

"Start on the surface," Severus instructed, as Harry wondered whether he might come just from listening to Severus give him directions.

"Like this?" asked Harry, though he could tell from the faster pace of Severus's breathing that that was exactly the right spot.

"Yes," moaned Severus, and Harry's prick was having a hard time letting Harry focus on anything but the need to comply. "Exactly like that. Remember what I did to you?"

Harry was nodding, though he doubted Severus could tell with his eyes rolled back in his head like that as Harry wiggled his fingertip in. It felt strange, not anything like doing this to himself. When he'd done that, the angle had always been wrong, achingly close to what he'd hoped but never quite enough. He remembered that exquisite tingling inside him when Severus had pushed his finger in --

"Fuck!" Severus's groan was so sudden that Harry's finger pulled back reflexively, afraid he'd hurt him.

"Did I --" Harry began.

"Put it back!" Severus said at the same moment and Harry grinned. It was nice to see Severus rapt with the pleasure Harry was giving him, and even nicer to be the one allowed the privilege. Harry intended it to be an exclusive privilege if he could manage it.

"Like this?" he asked, knowingly echoing his earlier question as he slid one finger in slowly, deeper until he felt that bump that made Severus clench around his finger. Harry tried to image that feeling around his cock and his whole hand trembled.

For a moment Severus seemed beyond words, head lolling back on the pillows as Harry pressed in and out. "More," came the quiet command and Harry knew exactly what he wanted. He used a little bit more of the potion -- squeaky hinges, right! -- on his fingers and drew back so he could push two in together. Vivid memories, recently acquired of how strange this had felt on himself, made him go in slowly. His own cock was rigid against his belly, as if pushing its way up to observe the proceedings.

He copied what Severus had done, the patient stretching and scissoring that had nearly driven Harry wild with the anticipation of what was to follow. Looking up, he was startled to realize Severus was watching him, eyes dark with hungry arousal.

"I want to do more than practice," Harry said and Severus nodded. He didn't know how to explain that there _was_ something about this night, that Harry was not just being sentimental and romantic. He had no reason to believe they would not carry on like this once they got back to England but Harry had learned, not just over the last year of being chased around the country by a dark wizard trying to kill him, to voice what he wanted, to grab onto happiness while it was within reach.

"I'm yours for the practice," Severus said, and though Harry thought he meant it lightly, there was an element of possessiveness that was echoed in Harry's feelings as well.

Slowly Harry withdrew his fingers, brushing his thumb around the now slippery rim of Severus's arse. Another moan as he shifted up onto his knees, spilling out a bit more of the potion onto his fingers, working it over his cock. He was quite aware now that Severus was watching him, knees shifting to show Harry the erection in between. It still amazed him that he could arouse Severus like this, and make him want Harry as his lover.

"I --" he said, hesitating now that his cock was brushing between the slippery sides of Severus's cleft.

"You won't hurt me," Severus said, as if he'd read Harry's mind, though no thoughts had passed between them. "We'll stop if you can't, and practice something else."

"I want to try," Harry blurted breathlessly, propelling himself forward, very slightly afraid that Severus would withdraw the offer if he hesitated. For a moment he thought maybe he really couldn't do it -- maybe he'd done something wrong in preparation, or was pressing the wrong spot, Severus's flesh seemed so unyielding -- but all at once the muscles gave way around him and he slid _oh fuck_ inside.

It was irresistible, the tight heat that felt better than he had ever imagined, making him want to push deeper and deeper. Only when Severus sucked in a sharp breath did he realize that he was probably doing it much too fast. Quickly he jerked back his hips, sliding out entirely.

"Oh fuck! Sorry!"

_Stop apologizing and fuck me!_ The words ringing in Harry's head sounded more impatient than Severus had been with Harry all evening, but in this case, that wasn't really a bad thing. He started to apologize again, caught himself, and grabbed his slippery cock, pressing it forward again. This time the tight channel gave way for him easily, and he tried to move more slowly.

"Is that all right?"

"More! Harder!" Harry took that to mean that he was, if not doing it well, at least doing it acceptably, and bucked his hips, thrusting his cock in fully. That felt better than the best thing Harry had ever felt in his life, so he groaned and did it again and again, deciding that as long as Severus didn't specifically tell him to stop, he didn't have to stop. "Fuck," Severus grunted again, and did something with his muscles that felt even better than the best thing Harry had ever felt in his life.

"God!"

"Not precisely." Though breathless, Severus sounded amused. Harry could feel him sliding his fingers around his own cock, which Harry appreciated because he didn't think he could spare the concentration from not coming for long enough to unclench his hand and wrap it around Severus's cock. He kept moving his hips, groaning helplessly as Severus's arse clenched around him again and again --

_Yes, that's it oh fuck_, Severus was thinking, groaning with him, and Harry let out a soft cry. He hoped that meant Severus was close because Harry had slipped from not wanting to come too soon to not wanting to come this very second. For a moment he thought his ears were buzzing before he realized it was a chant --

_Come for me, come for me, come for me!_

\-- though he had lost the boundaries of his own mind as surely as those of his body, joined in both to Severus. His cock plunged in again, not minding the chanting as Harry clung to every inch of skin he could, slippery, heated and --

_Ohfuckperfect!_

Spoken or thought or both, the words blended between them as the best thing Harry had ever felt in his life became the best thing _ever_ \-- and he had shared it with Severus.

He managed a shaky grin, closing his eyes once tightly as tremors of pleasure cascaded through him. "Okay," he said, his eyes fluttering back open. "We're going to have to find a better way to describe that than 'unprecedented.'" His fingers unclenched once he realized they were digging into Severus's thighs.

"Hmmm," came the lazy purr as the dark lashes shifted against Severus's cheek before opening. "'Amazing' is certainly too commonplace." Severus's legs slid down, unbending and unfolding, stretching out beside Harry's.

"That was definitely better than amazing," agreed Harry, grunting softly when his prick softened enough to slip free without any urging.

"And 'unheralded' sounds like insipid advertising copy for Marks and Spencer," Severus said. Harry decided that satisfied drawl in his voice suited him. He decided etiquette dictated that he be the one to do the cleaning spell.

"Loads better than 'unheralded,'" he said, nodding, deciding he'd earned a turn in the crook of the arm position after making sure they wouldn't wake up sticky and shifted over so he could nudge up Severus's arm. Obligingly it lifted for him and Harry settled under it, rubbing his cheek across the side of Severus's chest. "What about 'brilliant'?" he asked, but he felt Severus's head shaking already.

"Young people think everything is brilliant," Severus informed him loftily but Harry heard the amusement lurking beneath the words. Fingers pushed into his hair, brushing it away from his forehead.

"Well, it was brilliant. And unheralded. And amazing." He shoved up onto one elbow and rubbed his mouth over Severus's -- much too pleased with himself to decide if it was a proper kiss or just a nuzzle. "And unprecedented," he added, sliding back into his crook. "And we need to do it -- both ways -- so much more."

He heard a yawn that made his own eyes droop with sudden tiredness as if the strange bond they shared had sent sleepy thoughts as well. "If you require any more practice tonight, I'm afraid you're on your own," Severus said and before Harry could do more than smile at the soft slur sleepiness had given Severus's words, he too drifted off, Severus's fingers still resting on his forehead.


	10. Chapter 10

Morning arrived too soon, though at least they weren't startled out of sleep by the ringing of a telephone. Rather, a loudly hooting bird seemed to have taken up a position either in a tree just outside their window or on the sill itself.

"Hex that, would you?" grumbled Severus.

"Don't tempt me." Shifting up on an elbow, Harry pushed the curtains aside and discovered that the bird was an owl. He fumbled with the latch, asking Severus, "Do you suppose there's any leftover fruit we could give it?"

The owl had a note for Harry, sealed with a pair of wax initials he didn't much want to see. _Dear Mr. Potter_, the note said. _I have been patient with your disappearance, but now I must demand that you fulfill the promise you made when I revealed certain information of importance to you. Please contact me at once._ The initials were repeated in elegant script.

"That's Lucius Malfoy's handwriting," observed Severus as he offered a bite to the owl. Harry passed the letter to him. "Draco must be in trouble."

"Either that or Malfoy's just nervous now that he knows Hermione knows what he was up to," said Harry. He sighed. He had been hoping for a long, lazy morning of lovemaking, not a rushed trip back to England to sort out the mess with the Malfoys. "I suppose we had better ring up Hermione's parents and find out where they are with packing and the rest."

"After breakfast," Severus said firmly, and Harry's stomach growled. With all the exercise from the night before, he was hungry again.

_You're staring._

Harry lowered his eyes over his toast. _I like looking at you._ After a cheerful conversation with the Grangers, in which they'd assured Harry that they needed a few more days for packing and that Hermione and Ron were both going to come help them transport everything back, Harry had sat down to another of the hotel's excellent breakfasts and found his gaze drifting more than once to the other side of the table.

"Did we really--" He felt his cheeks warming at the quickly shared memories.

"More than once," replied Severus, looking either very happy with his tea or very pleased with himself. "And as much as I'd like to linger and renew your practice sessions, I believe our immediate task should be to resolve the Malfoy situation as soon as possible."

"You don't mind that I'd rather be, um, practicing?" Harry asked, trying to look like he was not staring hungrily again at Severus.

"Mind that you lo-- have a great deal of affection for me and wish to express it in a physical form?" Severus replied, as their forks dueled over the last few kippers.

Laughing, Harry surrended the kipper and slathered the last bit of toast with mango preserves instead as a sop to his hunger. "I love you too," he said, finally pushing his plate away. They managed to get all their things packed before the staff arrived to take away the breakfast cart, even Scourgifying the fireplace to remove all traces of potion-making. Using Regulus's wand, Severus cast the _Portus_ spell on one of the samples he'd collected in the swamp for their journey home. Harry took a last look around the suite before taking Severus's hand just as the Portkey sent them hurling home.  
They arrived just inside the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Only they were not alone. Harry fumbled for his wand, but the gaunt figure that sat at the bottom of the steps only blinked at them both.

"Where've you been?" asked Draco Malfoy, peering up at them, looking even more wan and pale than he had when Harry had last seen him at Malfoy Manor. There were circles under his eyes and his clothes looked like he'd slept in them. "Mother wanted to send me to--"

He made a terrible face and coughed, huddling against the newel post. Kreacher came in from the kitchen, holding a cup of tea on one of Mrs. Black's elegant saucers. "But I can't," Draco wheezed, even though neither Severus nor Harry had said a word to him. "I can't."

"Of course you can't, Draco," Severus said, motioning for Harry to keep silent.

"Master is home," Kreacher said, staring between them. "Kreacher was giving the Malfoy boy tea."

"That's perfectly all right," Severus said calmly. Kreacher swayed from foot to foot in indecision. Harry stepped around Severus and nodded at Kreacher in approval. Draco hadn't seemed to notice any of them after his initial question, rocking now on the stair as Kreacher sidled over and thrust out the teacup toward Draco.

For a moment the troubled eyes cleared and he took it, looking for all the world like he'd just sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast. Then a tremor went through his fingers, rattling the cup on the saucer. "You saved my life, sir," Draco said beseechingly, as if the facts were in doubt.

"I made the Unbreakable Vow with your mother to do so," agreed Severus. "Though I had already made a promise to Professor Dumbledore. Why do you suppose the headmaster took such an interest in your welfare even though your father tried to have Dumbledore removed from his position?"

"No idea," replied Draco bleakly. "I suppose he wanted me -- us -- to be more like," and he glanced at Harry with a trace of his usual haughtiness, "Gryffindors."

"It was never about House loyalty, nor blood purity, no matter what the Dark Lord claimed," Severus said sternly. "I am a half-blood, like Harry -- a fact that your parents and the Dark Lord knew when they accepted me into their group just as well as Dumbledore knew it. The headmaster's judgment of a wizard's worth had much less to do with his bloodline or House than with his talents and how he chose to use them."

"But Dumbledore never thought my family was good for anything," said Draco, wrinkling his nose.

"Dumbledore never believed that you were fated to follow your family's mistakes. He did not wish to see your soul damaged in a futile attack on him."

Draco shivered slightly. "You know what my mother wants," he whispered. "She said no one else would know about the horcruxes."

"I know," Harry cut in. "I know how to destroy a horcrux, too. How else do your parents think I survived when Voldemort died?"

"But if I don't..." Again Draco looked utterly miserable. "There's only one other way to be certain of keeping a child safe. Everyone knows that from _you_, Potter. Your mother died, and then the Dark Lord's spell couldn't kill you." His hand shook again, rattling the teacup in its saucer.

Harry and Severus exchanged an alarmed glance. "Has your mother suggested that she would put herself in danger in a misguided attempt to protect you?" Severus demanded of Draco. "Lily Evans is not the only mother in history to have sacrificed herself to save a child. The old magic worked exceptionally well in Harry's case only because the Dark Lord was an exceptionally powerful wizard. There would be no such guarantee of protection for you."

"That's why a horcrux is the only way. I won't let her die for nothing!"

"Draco. Look at me. You could not bring yourself to murder Albus Dumbledore. Do you really imagine that you could bring yourself to kill me? Or Harry? Or even a stranger?" Draco shook his head miserably, sloshing tea over the rim of the cup. "Then obviously you require a more reasonable alternative. Come sit down, and we'll discuss how Harry can divert the Ministry's plans to punish us both."

Meekly Draco followed them into the room where Harry had sat with Draco's father only a few weeks earlier, where he had first learned that Severus was alive. There he received another shock. Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in the big armchair, looking furious.

"What are you doing in my house!" Harry shouted, pulling out his wand.

"You forget that I have a longtime connection to your house elf," she replied coldly. Her own wand was drawn.

"Harry," Severus said in warning, stepping between them, though Harry wasn't sure if he did it deliberately or if protecting Harry was so ingrained that he did it without being conscious of it. He had whipped out the borrowed wand. Though he held it up with confidence, Harry wished desperately they'd had time for Severus to reclaim his own.

"This is my house," Harry huffed, glaring at Kreacher. The elf was huddling behind Draco and it was hard to say which of them looked more miserable. At least Draco looked as surprised as Harry at Narcissa's presence...surprised and a little frightened.

"You can't, Mother," he said, not venturing from behind Harry. He hadn't drawn his wand.

"I am not going to lose you," Narcissa insisted, rising from her armchair. She looked as haughty as the first time Harry had seen her, but there was something mad in her eyes.

"There are other ways," said Severus, keeping his voice level and her wand in sight, standing between Harry and their unwanted guest. "My death will not keep Draco safe. I can do more for him alive."

"Then it will be Potter," hissed Narcissa, definitely looking more like her crazed sister Bellatrix.

"You know I won't let you do that," Severus replied, the steel in his voice evident enough that Draco shot Harry a curious look.

Narcissa snorted contemptuously. "He has served his purpose. There's no longer any reason to keep him alive." She swayed like someone coming out of a pub who'd had too much to drink, but Harry didn't think she was drunk, at least not on stout.

"If the Dark Lord could not kill Potter, it would be foolish to believe that Draco can do so," Severus said. "And I will fight for him, for my own reasons." At the same time, Harry heard him ask, _Can you disarm her if I distract her?_

_Yes!_ Harry thought, but before either of them could act, Draco seemed to find his courage and spoke.

"Mother, please," he said beseechingly. "I don't want this. I've told you and Father has --"

"Your father is too weak to protect you. He can have other children if he loses you. You are my only son!" She tightened her grip on her wand, which had gone slack for a moment.

_I can't take Draco out without making his mother more dangerous_, Severus informed Harry. For a moment, Harry was torn between trying to get Draco and Kreacher out of the room and the risks of leaving Severus alone with the increasingly unstable Narcissa. _Get Draco out --_

_I'm not leaving you_, Harry decided, gripping his wand and stepping up beside Severus. He heard a growl beside him but only drew closer to Severus's shoulder.

Narcissa's wand flicked between them like magical metronome. Harry was watching her hand, hoping to see her loosen it enough to disarm her before she got off any hexes or curses. Severus too lifted his own wand. Narcissa's eyes followed the movement and Harry heard her gasp.

"Regulus!"

Almost, Harry was tempted to look around, as if he believed Sirius's long dead brother might have walked into the room. He forced himself to concentrate on Narcissa's wand. Then he remembered it was Regulus's wand that Severus was aiming at her.

"You recognize the wand?" Severus asked curiously.

Narcissa's wand hand dropped to her side, though her gaze was still fixed on Severus's hand. "He was my cousin. I couldn't --" Her face contorted as if in pain and Harry raised his own wand.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted as Narcissa's wand flew into his hand.

"Don't hurt her!" That was Draco, leaping forward at Harry as though he'd forgotten how to use magic. Severus had caught and disarmed him before Harry had finished shoving Narcissa's wand deep into his pocket.

"Harry isn't going to harm your mother," Severus said to Draco, though his eyes were on Narcissa, who was crying silently, her hands shaking. "I believe that she is suffering from something that happened many years ago."

"Mother?" asked Draco, his own eyes wet. "You couldn't what?"

"I couldn't," Narcissa repeated, shaking her head and taking a step back as if someone had demanded that she do something there and then. "Lucius was meant to do it at first, but I was a Black, and Regulus trusted me. So they sent me."

"Voldemort asked you to kill your own cousin?" asked Harry, as much for Draco's understanding as his own.

"He thought I had done it!" Again Narcissa had a mad look in her eyes, but it wasn't the gleeful cruelty of her sister. Her face contorted in terrible grief. "They knew Regulus had turned traitor -- the Dark Lord and Bella -- and when Regulus never came back..." She let out a small sob. "I was terrified that he had met some awful death, but even more terrified that he had not. I let them believe that I had done what they wanted!"

Draco turned from his mother to Severus, gnawing on his lip as if he didn't know how to feel about the revelation that his mother was no more capable of murder than Draco himself. "Did _you_ kill him? Is that why you have his wand?" he demanded.

"I had no hand in Regulus Black's death," Severus replied quickly. "The wand was kept in his bedroom in this house, which is how I came to use it."

"Regulus found out about the horcruxes, too," Harry added, realizing that even Severus didn't know what had happened in the cave where the Inferi had dragged Regulus down. "After he learned the truth, he hated Voldemort. He died trying to destroy them."

A small wail arose from behind them. "Kreacher knows, too," Harry added, turning to glance at the miserable elf. "Kreacher would have told Regulus's cousins everything, if any of you had known enough to ask the right questions."

"I hope you can both see the utter folly of creating horcruxes as a path to immortality," Severus said, releasing his grip on Draco, though not returning his wand.

"I never wanted to!" Draco insisted, with more of his old sulkiness. Narcissa sobbed into her hands, looking up only at Draco's denials.

"I don't want to lose you," she hiccuped, her face tear-streaked. "I could not bear it."

Draco stepped away from Severus, taking his mother's arm. "How do you think I could bear it to be alive only because someone I cared about had died?" He glanced at Severus before returning his attention to his mother. Tears still leaked down her cheeks but she was listening. Even Harry was impressed by the sentiment -- he hoped Draco was telling the truth.

Before he could figure out what he was going to do with all these Malfoys in his drawing room, there was a pounding at the door. Kreacher, still huddled in the doorway, looked around as if Mrs. Black herself had arrived, ready to accuse him of serving tea to half-bloods and blood-traitors.

"I'll get it," he announced, wondering if Kreacher would be insulted if he gave him a reassuring pat on his quivering head. He sidled through the door, making sure Severus still had his wand out, even though Narcissa looked harmless enough clinging to her son. Severus held Harry's gaze in reassurance before Harry strode toward the door. The pounding had increased but Harry made sure he had his wand gripped and ready before flinging it open.

"What took you so long, Potter?" Lucius Malfoy said, dropping the snake-head cane he'd been using to dent Harry's front door. Harry's anger was tempered by his relief that Severus had insisted they erect Anti-Apparition wards on the entrance. "My wife --" Lucius began, stepping inside without being invited.

"Is in my drawing room with Severus," Harry sighed, stepping aside. Kreacher had collected himself to scamper out of the doorway and onto the first landing on the stairs, wringing his hands and staring down at them. "Draco's with them," Harry went on, pointing with his wand. Harry ignored Lucius's shocked expression and did nothing to allay his worry as Lucius pushed past him and ran toward the drawing room.

Harry followed more slowly, sparing a glance for Kreacher. "I'm sure the Malfoys would all appreciate it if you brought tea," he suggested. Kreacher brightened immediately, or at least Harry supposed he looked more cheerful. It was hard to tell.

By the time Harry reached the drawing room, the Malfoys were already in the midst of a row. "Without my permission!" Lucius was snarling at Narcissa, whose tears seemed to have been forgotten.

"At least I tried to do _something_! You've done nothing to protect Draco, nothing but but cower at home..."

"I am the one who insisted that Potter defend him personally! The Aurors will obey any order given by their precious Chosen One!"

"I'm not in the business of giving orders, or taking them," Harry said loudly. All heads in the room turned in his direction.

_Careful_, Severus said in his head as Harry walked toward the group. _Lucius Malfoy is not to be underestimated._

Harry gave Severus a slight nod. Aloud he said, "The Ministry is looking for someone to blame. I think we need to blame the person responsible -- Tom Riddle."

The two older Malfoys gasped and looked around the way Harry had been tempted to do when Narcissa said Regulus's name, as if they expected Lord Voldemort to appear in their midst. "He's dead," Lucius snapped. "The Ministry is looking for a live scapegoat."

"The Ministry doesn't have all the facts. I think we need to tell the Aurors exactly what happened. If we all know about the horcruxes, someone else might know, or figure it out."

Severus was shaking his head, and the Malfoys looked like they thought Harry was the crazy one. "Don't you think that will just tempt everyone else to try it?" demanded Draco.

"Like you tried it?" Harry retorted, trying not to sound like he was mocking Draco. "Listen, I have no illusions about Regulus Black. He didn't care about Muggles or half-bloods. But he still came round to believing that Voldemort was evil. He never wanted to make a horcrux, and neither did you. Not even your father." Harry glanced at the elder Malfoy, whose face bore his familiar sneer. "Besides, if someone does try it, the people who are supposed to be protecting us need to know how to recognize and destroy it. That's something I know how to do. I learned it from you, Malfoy --" He turned to Draco's father. "When you gave Ginny Weasley that cursed book, you didn't even know what it was, but it was the first horcrux I destroyed."  
"That book was a horcrux?" To his credit, Lucius Malfoy looked repulsed rather than intrigued. "I had it in my home!"

"To dispose of as you pleased. Not the wisest way to safeguard a fragment of one's immortal soul." Severus sounded a bit smug.

Draco took a step forward. "You could let me tell the Aurors about the horcruxes," he said. "It won't be enough having you tell them that I shouldn't be blamed for what happened. I have to have something to offer them, something valuable." He glanced at his mother. "No one needs to know that the Dark Lord didn't tell me about them directly."

Before Harry could answer, Kreacher came into the room holding a tray with a teapot and cups. "The Mudblood Granger is at the door," he wheezed.

"Don't call her that," Harry and Severus said together. Their eyes met as Harry took the tea from the house elf. "Tell her to come in, Kreacher," he added.

It seemed absurd to be playing host to the Malfoys under the circumstance, but having asked Kreacher for tea, Harry thought he might as well serve it. He was passing a cup to Lucius when Hermione burst into the room. "I've brought the w--" she began, then fell silent, mouth open almost comically, as she took in Harry's guests.  
How ironic that Regulus Black's wand had disarmed Narcissa Malfoy after all the trouble they'd taken to retrieve Severus's own. Harry still had Narcissa's wand in his pocket, while Severus had Draco's, which meant that they now had the Malfoys fully outnumbered. He couldn't help grinning as he nodded in greeting. "Nice of you to join us, Hermione. Would you like some tea?"

"I -- yes," she said, pulling herself up and striding into the room. "Thank you, Kreacher, how are you?" she asked, taking a teacup and adding more sugar than Harry could ever remember her taking.

"Kreacher is not sure what is happening," the elf mumbled, "but he is thinking we need more cups." He slunk out of the study, leaving the tray behind, still muttering to himself.

Hermione was still gaping, but managing to smile while she did, coming over to him and brushing a light kiss over his cheek. "Glad you're back," she said, over-brightly, nodding to Severus. "And you, sir," she said, taking a bolstering sip of tea before facing the assembled Malfoys as if the last time she'd seen them all together hadn't been when they'd had her tortured. "L-lovely to see you all," she said before more tea disappeared. Harry had never been more proud of her.

"Are we to be joined by any Weasleys?" Severus asked -- only half-jokingly Harry thought -- but Hermione was shaking her head.

"Oh no, I've just come about that errand we discussed before you left," she replied.

"And just where did you go?" Lucius demanded, stamping his cane once, as though he had any right to know Harry's schedule. "We had an agreement."

"Which I am going to fulfill, if Draco still needs it. The Ministry ought to be grateful to him for bringing in that information about horcruxes --"

Hermione gasped, but to her credit didn't splutter any tea.

"It's all right, we've been discussing strategy to get Draco pardoned. Apparently Mrs. Malfoy knew a bit more about horcruxes than the average witch," said Harry. He'd nearly forgotten how hard they had all worked to keep their mission last year a secret from everyone, even Professor McGonagall. Hermione looked a little sick, but nodded.

"Where Harry and I have been has no bearing on clearing Draco's name," Severus said as Kreacher reappeared with more teacups. Harry poured one for Severus first, then himself, not minding that every single Malfoy eye was on the gesture. "Save that we're here now and willing to assist in clearing Draco with the Ministry. Draco's idea is sound -- if he comes before the Auror inquiry with this information --"

"Which I'll back up," added Harry, noting that Hermione was paying careful attention.

"I'm certain the charges, whatever they are trumped up to be, will be dropped," Severus continued in evident satisfaction that he had their attention. Harry hadn't wanted to confess to their Australian adventure, not until the Grangers were as safe as Hermione could make them.

Lucius was nodding thoughtfully and even Narcissa looked hopeful, or at least a little less like she wanted to curse first and ask questions later. Of course, they still had her wand. "As long as Potter gives his word to see this through," he said, setting his untouched teacup on the sideboard.

"I will," Harry agreed readily. He might have agreed to root for Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup if it would have got the Malfoys out of his drawing room.

"Thank you," said Draco, actually sounding sincere. Then he turned to Severus. "May I have my wand back?"

Harry heard Hermione suck in a breath and smiled reassuringly at her. _I think it will be all right_, he thought to Severus. Aloud, he said, "I think your father should be the custodian of these wands until you all get home. After all, he's the only one of you three who hasn't drawn his wand on any of us today."

Narcissa cast a calculating look at Severus. "May I have my cousin's wand when you no longer have use for it?" she asked. "As a -- a keepsake?"

Severus raised his hand and examined Regulus Black's wand. It was a bit shorter than Harry remembered Severus's wand as being, and lighter in color, but it sat comfortably in Severus's hand and left a trail of silver sparks when he gave it a small flick. "I'm afraid I shall need this wand," he announced.

"Oh, but..." Hermione actually started to raise her hand. "I feel _quite_ sure you'll retrieve your own wand _very_ soon."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," replied Severus, nodding at her. "However, I feel perfectly comfortable using this one."

Lucius Malfoy looked surprised. Harry remembered that Hermione thought he, too, had been trying steal Severus's wand to return to Severus. "Don't you wish to continue to use the wand with which you have so much history?" Lucius asked.

Then Harry understood. Severus didn't really want to keep using the wand that had killed Albus Dumbledore, but hadn't thought he had a better alternative. Whatever Regulus Black might have done with his wand as a Death Eater, he had had a personal code of honor -- he had balked at murder -- and, like Severus, he had risked death rather than continue to follow the Dark Lord. No wonder Regulus's wand obeyed Severus so readily.

"Legally, if it was left in this house, then I suppose Regulus's wand belongs to Harry," Hermione was saying. "Though I suppose that if the Ministry knew it had survived, they might want to examine it..."

"We won't tell the Ministry," Harry interrupted. "If Regulus's wand has chosen another Slytherin as its master, I'm going to believe it's what Regulus would have wanted."

He wondered for a moment whether Regulus and Severus had been friends at Hogwarts, but from what he had seen, Severus had been a loner even among students of his year, while Regulus had been a pureblood, a Quidditch player, handsome and popular...maybe as obnoxious as Harry knew his own father had been to Severus.

"If you want the wand, it's yours," he told Severus. Turning to Narcissa, he added, "If you want a keepsake, there are loads of portraits of the Blacks -- in fact, there's one in particular that I've had no luck removing. Maybe a family member could persuade Mrs. Black to visit another portrait?"

Narcissa didn't look happy, but she didn't look mutinous, either. Keeping an eye on her, Harry dug out her wand and offered it to Lucius. He hoped Lucius and Draco were intelligent enough not to want to see the House of Malfoy go the way of the House of Black. Draco was, after all, their last chance for survival...at least in their eyes, since they'd never consider the offspring of a half-blood and a werewolf to be a true cousin to Draco. Given the way Narcissa valued her pure blood, it wasn't all that surprising she would have chosen dark magic to try to guarantee her offspring's immortality. Harry couldn't wait to get her out of his home.

He was showing the Malfoys to the door just as Kreacher arrived with more tea, which Hermione stayed behind to accept gratefully. When Harry returned to the room, however, she rolled her eyes. "I could have gone to Australia myself! Don't tell me I took all that trouble about sneaking around the Ministry for nothing!" She produced Snape's old wand, which she set down beside the teapot.

Severus peered at it curiously. "I am sorry that you have not yet seen your parents, but our expedition was not for nothing," he said.

"Well, yes, I suppose that if you hadn't tried Regulus Black's wand, you would have had no way of knowing that it suited you so well, and if I hadn't encountered Malfoy in the Ministry, he might have stolen this wand before I could..."

While Hermione went on, Harry smiled at Severus. _Our expedition was for everything._

_Everything that matters now_, came the quiet returning message.

It took a moment but even Hermione seemed to realize they were no longer paying attention to her but gazing raptly at each other, tea and visitors forgotten.

"Honestly! You might at least pretend I'm still here," she said, with a rattle of her teacup in its saucer, giving Harry a guilty start.

"Er --" he tried, trying to remember the last thing she'd said, or indeed anything she'd said in the last few minutes.

"Thank you for your efforts on our behalf," Severus said, setting his own cup aside in what Harry interpreted as a dismissive manner.

Hermione sighed feelingly. "And thank you both for helping my parents recover their memories. I'm sure the potion made it easier for them."

Nodding, Severus stepped up to stand beside Harry, as if they'd given a party and were wishing the last of their guests a fond farewell. Hermione needed no further urging. "Ron and I are leaving tomorrow to bring my parents back," she said, looking around to see if Kreacher was still present. The elf had made himself scarce as if avoiding any potential pats on the head.

"Tell them we said hello," Harry replied, not missing the slight widening of Hermione's eyes at his casual "we."

"I will," she assured him, and not without a glance at Severus to make sure that hugging Harry goodbye was still acceptable. She waved to indicate that she'd see herself out. When they were alone, Harry nearly collapsed back onto the sofa, pulling Severus down with him.

"Some welcome home!" he said, giving into the urge to be in Severus's arms by wrapping them around himself. Severus's legs stretched out, brushing easily against Harry's in their casual sprawl.

"Do you suppose we can make your home Unplottable again to keep away unexpected visitors?" Severus sighed. Harry's head jerked up from the spot it had settled onto, just below Severus's shoulder.

"It's your home now too," he insisted.

"I don't want to presume."

Harry frowned and pushed away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of Severus's face. "I suppose I'm presuming, too, that you'll want to live here with me." He scanned Severus's face for any clue about what he was thinking, but his expression -- and his thoughts -- were closed.

"You are presuming that the Ministry will see fit to leave me in peace once it is discovered that I am alive. And you are presuming that you will wish to live with me once I have retrieved my books and ingredients, if Hogwarts and the Aurors have not confiscated them..."

"I can live with whatever clutter you want to bring along. The library's plenty big..." Harry paused, considering. "Do you not want to live in Sirius Black's house? Is that it?"

"This house no longer belongs to any of the Blacks. If the Malfoys can indeed persuade the odious Walburga to leave her portrait, you will be able to remove the most irritating manifestation of the home's recent history."

It sounded a bit like Severus was challenging him. Harry slid a hand up his arm. "It's fine with me if we get rid of the blasted-out family tree, too, though I think Sirius used Permanent Sticking Charms on those photos hanging in his room. There's probably a way to cover them over, though. Do you want to toss all the Slytherin trinkets in Regulus's room?"

"Certainly not." Now Severus sounded indignant, and Harry grinned. "You can't expect me to live in a house papered entirely in Gryffindor yellow."

"It's gold!" laughed Harry. "And it's fine with me if we have some silver and green around here. I'd just rather it be fresh." He leered at Severus. "Like other things."

"If fresh is what you desire, you may be making a mistake," Severus said carefully. "It isn't as if I'm your last chance. In theory, people who live together have spent time getting to know each other before sharing living quarters, not just a few days engaged in carnal pleasure."

Rolling his eyes, Harry climbed into Severus's lap, his knees bracketing Severus's thighs as he draped his arms around each side of his neck. "That wasn't just a few days of carnal pleasure," he said, dropping a kiss onto Severus's mouth. "You have to trust me. I want you here with me, and that's not going to change." Severus kissed him back, sliding his arms around Harry's waist. "In theory, people waste a lot of time pretending they don't want their lovers to move in with them, but I'm not much on theory," added Harry, lowering his mouth for another kiss, which Severus returned eagerly. "I'm really more the practical sort."

"I hadn't noticed." Severus smirked at him. "Practical sorts don't make love on lumpy old couches when they have comfortable beds upstairs."

Harry smiled happily. "That's what romantic sorts do." He slid his feet to the floor, tugging on Severus's arms. "Though we'll have to buy some new couches for this room."

"Green ones," agreed Severus, following Harry. "And I shall require a proper laboratory."

"We can install one in Regulus's room. Since you're going to be sleeping in mine. Would that be acceptable?"

"That would be ideal," Severus said, hand slipping down to squeeze Harry's arse on the stairs.

"Perfect," agreed Harry. Then he realized that they had been speaking aloud since Hermione left. "What happens if we lose the blood bond?"

Pausing on the landing, Severus studied him. "I suppose I would lose the ability to speak Parseltongue."

"Would that bother you?" Harry asked. As much as he wanted to project a thought directly into Severus's mind just to make sure he could, the thought that perhaps one day he might not made him suddenly uneasy. "Some things could stop being unprecedented."

"Some things would remain unprecedented with or without such a bond." The familiar smirk returned. "The side effects of most potions do fade over time, but blood magic is as tricky as wand lore. And as we have already established, much about you is unique." Harry loved the way Severus looked at him when he said that. "If we lose the ability to read one another's thoughts from the blood bond, I could make another attempt to teach you Legilimency. I've been told that you're a moderately skilled wizard."

"Moderately!" Harry pinched his bum. "I was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts student of my year. I think you still owe me an 'O.'" He raced ahead of Severus into the bedroom, laughing.

"I'll give you an 'O' right now," promised Severus, lunging at Harry so that they both fell grinning onto the bed. "But I should warn you that the advanced course is more difficult."

"I don't mind," Harry said happily. "It will require a lot of practice, right? For years and years?"

"In theory..." Severus kissed him. _Yes. Forever._


End file.
